


Sent To Me

by toaquiprashippar



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Robert's Rebellion, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, I'll give you more character tags if I continue this, Incest, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Lyanna Stark Lives, M/M, Not Exactly For Catelyn Fans, R Plus L Equals J, Rhaegar Lives, Smut, Targaryen Restoration, What Could Have Been
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-06-06 01:25:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 76,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15183683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toaquiprashippar/pseuds/toaquiprashippar
Summary: He found a reason to live before he could let death claim him.What he did not know was of the other reasons that could be found across the Narrow Sea.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fairytalelovr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalelovr/gifts).



> This is a little thing I wrote to my amazing friend [fairytalelovr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalelovr/pseuds/fairytalelovr), her bday was last week and I know you said jonerys but I just couldn't help myself. This shall have around 8 chapters or something like it. I can guarantee this is 100% jonerys and full of little surprises and twists. 
> 
> As usual, beta'd by the always great [LustOnMyFingers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LustOnMyFingers/pseuds/LustOnMyFingers) <3  
>  
> 
> Happy bday to my great friend this fandom gave me, tmj! HAHA <3

                                                                  

beautiful fanart by: [@monroeidiot!](https://www.instagram.com/p/Bi5Go-VFPNM/?taken-by=monroeidiot)

 

They fed the dragons and laughed at the little ones.

Rhaeon, the biggest, fiercest one, set fire to the pieces of meat thrown his way, while his brothers shared the meat, as if they were three little children playing with their food. The sight amused Rhaegar and Daenerys. They were both enjoying the view.

“Vhagar should not be this greedy, he is the smallest one.” Dany laughed.

“He likes the attention of catching the food, he is as a playful child. He loves the applause.” Rhaegar smiled at the sight of the little dragon named after his family.

Rhaegar did not have many reasons to laugh. He had lost all of his family to the Rebellion that ended their family’s dynasty – the greatest dynasty Westeros had ever seen. He had lost his children and a wife to the cruelness of Tywin Lannister, with the appreciation of Robert Baratheon; he had lost the love of his life to her blood, arriving too late to say goodbye to the only person that could bring smiles out of his solemn face as easy as breathing. Not even Rhaella had that talent as strong as Lyanna did. She died birthing the child he never got to hold, for death claimed them both and Lord Eddard took his winter rose and their child to the Crypts of Winterfell, where she would forever rest with her family.

He would never get to lay beside her again, not even in death, and the thought broke his heart, alongside the image described to him of his beautiful children broken and bloodied, wrapped in Lannister silk.

He had always been patient, his mother called him her _sweet boy,_ the Crown Prince was as good and kind, in a way that most people were not. However, the moment he heard the fate of his family, Rhaegar was a picture of rage, pain and hurt he never imagined he could turn into.

He imagined himself lost and he was bound to offer his life to the Stranger, when he heard his mother and Viserys had escaped Dragonstone. A small flame lit in his heart, something to live for again. He would never again tell little Rhaenys of Visenya or her namesake, Aegon’s Queens, as the little one loved to hear. Nor would he ever look at Aegon’s precious little face. His thin silver hair and beautiful purple eyes.

He would never talk to Elia again–he might not have loved her as a man loves a woman, but he loved her as a friend loved another. She had been his companion and supporter for so long, she even supported him to go for Lyanna, she knew of his devotion to the little She-Wolf and her Dornish roots taught her the heart wants what it wants.

Once she accepted their relationship would only ever be as friends, her heart wanted another, and Rhaegar always wished she could get what she wanted. She was the kindest of women and she deserved all the love in the world. If not for Aerys. His mad father, once caring and smart, the man who shared histories of their past to an infant Rhaegar, until madness took over his heart and soul. What was left of him brought their family to an end, and Rhaegar’s heart almost to a stop, if not for the news of Queen Rhaella escaping East, finding residence in Braavos. He wanted to give up, but he knew he could never, his mother endured enough to keep him alive, to see him grow, and he could only do the same for her.

What he did not expect was to see a beautiful purple-eyed baby with their nose and the tiniest hands and loveliest little giggle. Daenerys had been born in the worst storm of living memory at Dragonstone, and escaped with the help of Ser Willem Darry and apparently, with a force delayed by an unknown supporter. He would one day find out about it, he kept that in mind.

Therefore, Rhaegar lived.

He almost died at the Trident, left cold and bleeding at the river with his armor smashed and his blood spread throughout the water. He would never understand how he opened his eyes that same day, but he still carried the marks of Robert’s Warhammer, and his wounds still showed, as if he had broken bones at his chest, leaving the redness, scratches and wounds in his chest.

He only remembered waking up at the feet of a dead Weirwood tree, and praying for Lyanna’s old Gods to protect her and their child through whatever they were facing. He prayed for Rhaenys, Aegon, Elia and Rhaella, he had prayed for his brother to survive the storm.

He would later find out that Viserys died at sea, drowned and lost, to their mother’s broken heart. Nevertheless, she kept going, for Daenerys. Rhaella Targaryen had always been the fiercest of dragons, protecting her children at all costs.

When Rhaegar arrived at the Sea Lord of Braavos’ palace, the Queen Mother believed herself taken by Targaryen madness. She cried non-stop holding her firstborn’s face. She did not let him go for several moments, but when she did it was his time to let out the cries he had been hiding even from himself ever since the moment he woke up.

After all sorrows were shared, he saw her. That tiny little piece of happiness, beautiful moon-silver chunks of hair, eyes as neither Viserys nor himself had, Daenerys’ purple were softer and brighter, almost as if purple lava flowed inside of them. Her tiny hands playing with a winter rose. He once again wept. He had tried to reach Dorne before Braavos, but he only found Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold’s graves, alongside other unmarked graves, he could only name his friends for the Kingsguard symbols above it.

Every grave had a house sigil on it, and who else could it be if not his beloved friends beneath a sword and a star, bats and a tower? Would he ever find reason to smile again? He wept to himself. And the realization of his greatest nightmare, his Lady Lyanna was nowhere in sight, nor was the Tower where they found Joy. All gone.

Leaving Dorne, he had heard rumors of his wife’s death, of how Lord Eddard had taken the girl back to Winterfell to bury her amongst the Starks of old.

So after finding Rhaella and Daenerys, his broken heart found reasons to live again. Although he rarely laughed, and his lips barely smiled. His sister was the only one who could still draw a smile from his bitter self.

When their mother died, he and Daenerys were in Pentos, at Magister Illyrio’s manse, and they took the three eggs they had been presented by the old man and put it in the fire, alongside the woman who took Rhaella’s life and the man who ordered her to.

The maegi was commanded by Tywin Lannister, that much he got out of her before tying her to Rhaella’s pyre, next to the Maester he found to be the source of the threat, probably also sent by either Robert or the Old Lion himself.

That day Daenerys met a pain she never knew she was capable of. She prepared Rhaella for her funeral bed herself, she wanted to make sure her mother was taken care of with love, and that she was as beautiful in death as she had been in life.

She could not explain, but as her mother burned, the flames called to her, and off to the pyre she went. She heard Rhaegar’s cries and Ser Jorah’s desperation, the knight had offered them his sword less than a year ago, and they both imagined her gone as she laid next to her beautiful mother as the beautiful Targaryen Queen burned her way into the other side, to find the peace life never delivered.

When it was all burned and gone, she remained, with three baby dragons around her, protecting her as she protected them. She did not hear much, but she felt her brother’s arms around her, covering her and holding her to him, as the dragons surrounded her, they went to him also. He could not believe his eyes.

That night they could not sleep, nor could they talk, as if they both needed the silence and the dragon’s presence to survive. Rhaegar had been a father to her, and once more, he took care of his no longer little girl. She slept with her head on his lap, Rhaeon laying on her right and Vhagar’s little head on her left arm. Laeron chose Rhaegar’s chest to rest, but Rhaegar’s eyes were wide open.

Sleep escaped him with the mesmerizing birth. The dragons were magnificent, and they only made them stronger. The grief was too deep for smiles and happiness, for days they walked beside each other, marveled by the sight and feel of dragons for the first time in a hundred years.

Somewhere across the Narrow Sea, a winged wolf trained swords with his protector, under the watchful eyes of Eddard Stark and his Lady Wife. His brothers were next, and little Arya moped around the little ones with her wish to join her siblings.

That night, laying on his featherbed in Qarth, Rhaegar Targaryen dreamt of a lean, black-haired boy, the spitting image of his Lady, except for his nose and hair, even if a different color. His sword movements so similar to his own at that age.

That morning he woke up and ran to his sister’s room. He knocked and waited for her soft answer, the sun had not yet risen, she would have been sleeping.

“Dany? Please, can I come inside?” He tried not to be too loud, this wasn’t their house, they had none.

“Rhaegar?” Her sleepy voice answered. “Come inside, please.”

He entered and met her half-asleep, half-awake laying in her bed.

“Dany, I am sorry to wake you, sister. But I saw him. I know who he is, I know he is mine. I do not understand why I never knew it before, why I was never shown him before, but I know it in my bones he is my own blood. Our blood.” He spoke a little too fast for her state of sleepiness.

“You are not making any sense, Rhaegar.” Daenerys said, and Rhaeon woke from his deep sleep, screeching in complaint, waking his brothers.

“See? Now he will awake the whole manse, Rhaegar.” Daenerys complained.

“Dany, I saw my son.” Rhaegar spoke clearly and she was suddenly up and.

“Rhae, I love you. But you know your sons are dead. I am so sorry, brother.” Her eyes a pool of pity.

“Not Aegon and Rhaenys, Dany.” His voice was small, it would never stop hurting.

“I saw my son with Lyanna. I heard no name, but I saw his face and he has her eyes, Dany.” His eyes full of tears. “And my nose.” He looked into her eyes and she saw the man that loved her as his own.

“I guess we are going back home.” She shrugged and he held her tight. There was guarantee it was him, he had no one to help get them to Westeros, nor had he any plan.

He would find a way, he would get help, he would find his boy, the last piece of his love on earth, somehow he knew, his Promised Prince.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Across the Narrow Sea, Winterfell receive news they had never imagined to be possible and it affects every single life around Winterfell even if most of them don't even know it yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, you guys.  
> This was meant to be a one shot for my friend's birthday! I never saw it coming how much you guys would like it and kindly ask me for more.  
> Thank you so much for reading, your comments gave me life.  
> I don't know if this direction was what you guys expected, but I hope you'll like it.  
> If this is to become a multichapter, we'll have to see the other half of our song before it starts to sing, right?
> 
> Beta'd by my bday girl herself (okay, not now, but when I wrote this it was! LOL) [Fairytalelovr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalelovr/pseuds/fairytalelovr)

He had lied.

Eddard Stark, who most considered the most honorable man in Westeros, had lied for his King innumerous times, and he regretted none. Because of his lies, his nephew played at swords with Ser Arthur, smiled, and laughed with his cousins. Because of his lies, his family lived.

Ser Arthur was Arthur no longer; he was now Addam Sand, the bastard of a nobleman and a Lyseni woman. Or that was the disguise he used, given his purple eyes. There were five people aware of the man’s true identity, and one of those was another secret Eddard Stark kept hidden for all these years.

She was Ayla, the Dornish handmaiden from Starfall that cared for Jon after his birth, or that was what everyone believed. She kept her hair shorter than it was before, and her face was not recognized by anyone that did not know of their secret, that was the maegi guaranteed the magic would do.

In truth, she was his blue winter rose. His little sister, the mother of Jon, rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, wife of the late Rhaegar Targaryen.

It took Catelyn all of five years to learn about it, by which time she had hated Lyanna and the boy. She thought of him as Ashara’s bastard and she did not waste the opportunity to make her disdain known.

On a cool summer night, a man arrived at the gates of Winterfell, asking to speak to its lord, showing his face beneath a white cloak.

Ned could never kill the brother of the woman he loved, especially after Lyanna showed her beautiful, tired face on that window and asked them to stop. It had not saved Ser Gerold Hightower’s life but it had saved Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell. After that, there was the burial of his companions and taking down the tower Rhaegar Targaryen had called Joy and yet, had only brought sorrow to the Realm. They made graves for each and every one of them, the dead and the living pretending to be dead. No one could ever know. Ashara received them in Starfall a few days later and she had a warm embrace and a sad smile. Arthur had lived but something else had died: their chance of a future together.

Ned would be ever faithful to Catelyn, because that was who Eddard Stark was, but it did not stop his heart from breaking at the sight of no longer laughing purple eyes in the woman he loved the most in his life.

She had been pregnant, but had lost the babe. A lovely baby girl, she told him; his body was faithful but he could not force his heart to be. He had wept beside her, asking for her forgiveness, knowing he could never get one, even if his lady said she had granted it to him.

Ser Arthur had stayed behind, as his sister needed him and being near Lyanna would be of no help, it could only endanger her and baby Aegon. He had been declared dead, yet, granted safety by a maegi’s hands, who put a spell on them: no one would come to see their real faces unless they knew truth. The payment came in blood, sucking Lyanna, Arthur and Oswell’s finger.

The night, years later, when a man with a white cloak appeared before him, it was not a Dornish bastard he saw, as many would come to see him in the future years to come, it was Arthur Dayne, who could not handle the death of his sister, and decided that he had been away from his King long enough. The baby, now a five-year old Jon, grew close to the knight, whom he called Uncle Addam.

Catelyn had found out who Ayla Sand was the night she found the woman in Eddard’s chambers, crying in his lap. She had freaked out and wept, she wanted to curse and slap both her husband and the whore. However, all her fury had been shut by the woman’s five whispered words.

“Catelyn, I am Lyanna Stark.”

Catelyn froze, unable to answer any of the two Starks who explained to her the events that had come to pass.

She had hated the woman for the entire time she had been there. Given how much love she gave to the little bastard, she assumed the woman was the little one’s mother, and it crushed her heart to think Eddard would disrespect her this way.

Nevertheless, after that day, Catelyn was no longer mean to her, although she resented Brandon’s death. Catelyn no longer distanced her children from Jon, even if she could not actually love the former bastard.

When Arthur Dayne arrived, he took the role of protector to both the boy and Lyanna, until Ned prevented him against the special treatment, since no one could see how the man protected a simple servant, the role Lyanna took to herself.

Ser Oswell had been working as Ser Rodrik’s help, frustrated by the change in his obligations, but happy to be around his Prince’s child and being able to protect him as he had not been able to protect little Rhaenys and baby Aegon.

“Ned?” Lyanna came to him with a whispered voice. She looked weary and sad.

“What is it, Lya?” He took her hand in his and she started to weep.

“I dreamt of him again, Ned. He was alive and older and he had the company of a young girl. She was as beautiful as he was and she looked so much like Queen Rhaella.” She cried against his chest. “They had baby dragons and he called for me. He was telling the girl about Jon and me. It felt so real, Ned!” She sobbed.

“Lya, he is dead. You know he is dead, we all do. Robert crushed his chest; no one could have survived that.” He caressed her hair, pitying his sister.

“His body went missing! Maybe…” She tried to find ways that Rhaegar could have lived.

“I am sorry, Lya.”

A loud knock was heard.

“Lord Stark, a raven for you, Sir.” The guard called for him, and Ned told him to enter.

The man delivered the scroll, and Lyanna left the room as her role as a handmaid demanded.

 

_Dearest Ned,_

_Robert grows reckless with every passing moment. Tywin Lannister rules Westeros as his Hand, and he does not listen to me anymore. In my position, I have no power over Lord Tywin, and the man is planning something. Robert is no longer the boy you grew up with and a most worrying rumor came to my attention._

_Daenerys Targaryen is not the last Targaryen alive. Lord Varys reported the murder of Rhaella Targaryen, as Tywin demanded of his own sources across the Narrow Sea, but what worries me is the most absurd tale._

_A tale of a fallen Prince that lives and cares for his sister. It is said Rhaegar Targaryen is alive. Make what you will of it. Rumors have not reached Robert’s ears yet, but I fear for peace when it does._

_Pray for your Gods and I will pray for mine, Ned. A lot of prayer is needed right now._

The scroll had no signature, but Ned knew every detail of the calligraphy it contained: Jon Arryn.

Ned tried to make sense of things: Lyanna’s dreams, Jon Arryn’s hidden words. Could it be true, then? Could the Prince be alive? What had Robert become? After all the years of peace, Ned feared war was just around the corner.

He did not know what to do, so he decided to look for Ser Arthur; he would be in shock at first, Ned knew, but he would know what to do. Arthur was more than a great swordsman, he was clever and the man always seemed to know what to do.

 

* * *

 

“Rhaegar is alive?” Arthur could not believe the words that left his own mouth. His Prince had been alive all this time and he never did anything to protect him.

“I don’t know yet. Nevertheless, I got word from the capital, from Varys’ little birds. They killed Queen Rhaella and for some reason they seem to think that Rhaegar raised Daenerys.” Ned said.

“Queen Rhaella died?” Arthur felt it in his heart; the woman was always sweet and kind. Mindful of her duty, even with a monster for a husband, a demon for a King.

 _I am sorry, my queen._ Arthur thought to himself.

“How can we be certain?” Oswell asked. Prince Rhaegar had asked them to care for his wife and child; they had heard of his fall, how would they ever know their King was alive?

“Is there any proof of it?” Arthur asked. “Anything but words?”

“None yet.” Ned answered.

“We need to look into this.” Oswell insisted.

“There is something else…” Ned did not know if he should say something about Lyanna’s dreams, but the timing seemed really weird.

“Yes?” Oswell asked.

“Lyanna dreamt about him.” Ned did not want to sound mad, but he could hear his own words and how it sounded. “She said he looked older and he was talking about her to a girl.” There was something he was not saying.

“Out with it, Stark. What else?” Arthur spoke.

“She said he had baby dragons with him.” He spoke quietly.

“What the—“Oswell was about to shout when a knock was heard.

“Father?” Jon knocked on the door.

“Yes, Jon, come inside.” Ned answered.

“Father.” Robb entered beside his brother. “Can we go with you to White Harbor?” Robb asked.

The news from the south had troubled Ned so much that he had forgotten he had a scheduled trip to White Harbor in a fortnight. It was Lord Manderly’s granddaughter’s wedding and they had agreed it was a good opportunity for Ned to go and visit his bannerman.

If Rhaegar was alive and he knew of Jon as Lyanna had seen in her dream, he should not take Jon with him and give the man the opportunity to chase Jon so easily. They would be in the port city Rhaegar could actually reach them and find him.

No one knew of Lyanna, Oswell, and Arthur, and as far as the North and all of Westeros was concerned, Jon Snow was Eddard Stark’s bastard and there was nothing else to it. The Dornish maegi made sure no one would recognize his sister and the Kingsguards. Even so, Ned did not feel comfortable taking Lyanna out of Winterfell, it was a spell but he did not want to risk his chance. Ser Arthur would want to follow them to White Harbor, to protect Jon, Ned knew. However, Ser Oswell could stay behind and guard Lyanna and the children. Catelyn would probably go with him, she was his lady and it could be seen as a slight to Lord Manderly if she did not accompany him.

“Sure, son. You and Jon can come with me. I believe Lady Wylla has grown into quite a beautiful young lady.” Ned smiled to Robb, who grew red upon his father’s words.

Ned was aware of Robb’s charms with the ladies, the same charm his brother Brandon had. Jon was much like Ned himself, he did not go around flirting or charming ladies. _Until the day, a fine pair of purple eyes smile back at him._ Ned thought to himself, remembering his beloved fallen star.

“Thank you, Father.” Jon answered, and excused himself of the room. Robb did the same and one could easily hear their excited talk from inside the room.

“You think it’s wise to take Jon?” Arthur asked.

“I do not like to treat him any different than I do Robb. Lyanna would not have it any other way, so she will agree with me when I tell her. However, she cannot go, Oswell. I know there is no way one of you will not go and guard him, but may you stay behind and guard my sister and family, Ser Oswell?” Ned asked, he knew the man would do as he was asked. Oswell was a well-humored, fine swordsman but he had a soft heart for his sons and most of all for Lyanna and Arya. Ned knew not only Arthur but also Oswell had started to teach his youngest daughter how to wield a sword.

“It is risky. I am not sure Lyanna will like staying behind. It is not like her to settle.” Arthur smirked.

“I will deal with that she-wolf; you handle Jon and Robb and make sure they don’t cause trouble around White Harbor. I am leaving Theon Greyjoy behind; I do not want him there. He cannot behave outside our Walls, so let us leave him at home. It might teach him some manners.

“I am sure it will.” Oswell snorted. The Greyjoys were known for their poor manners and high pride.

“I need to know if Rhaegar is alive, Ned.” Arthur spoke; he would not leave it at that. “He is my Prince, or better yet, my King, and if he lives, we need to find him.” He could not fathom not helping his friend.

“There are no ways that we can be sure of it, Arthur. It was all Varys’ whispers and you know how trustworthy the man is. I do not have a good enough relationship with Robert to ask him about it, and I do not think it would do anyone any good for Robert to find out. He is not the man I grew up with at the Vale.” Ned remembered his cheerful, brave friend. King Robert, First of His Name, was nothing like him.

“I will use some of my contacts in Dorne and across the Narrow Sea. If the Gods allow, we will have some answer by the time we are back from White Harbor.” Arthur affirmed.

“Do so, Addam.” He changed the name since he could hear footsteps outside his solar.

Arthur understood and so did Oswell, or as he was known in the North, Ryam.

“Yes, Lord Stark.” Arthur nodded, also hearing it.

Oswell then opened the door to find the girl they knew was right on the other side. And there she was, hand in hand with her aunt, or to Arya, just Ayla, her favorite handmaiden.

“Hello, Father.” She blushed at being caught.

“Hello, Arya,” Ned said, amused. Her similarity to Lyanna was absurd, one could say they were mother and daughter very easily and Ned knew it to be one of the reasons why Catelyn disliked Lyanna.

First, her loss of Brandon. Then, for years, for thinking she was ‘the bastard’s mother’. She tried to ask if the woman was still his lover, but enough was enough. She soon found out Lyanna to be his sister, indeed the ‘bastard’s mother’, but the mixed feelings between his two Ladies remained, to his constant headache.

“I was wondering if I could go to White Harbor too?” Arya used all her charm, playing the lady she usually claimed she was not.

“I am sorry but you cannot, my dear girl,” Ned answered and she was back in her wild ways: angry and unconformed.

“Why is that only boys can do fun things? You get to go to White Harbor with Jon, Robb, and Theon.” She was mad. “And I have to stay behind with Sansa stitching up my brains and Septa Mordane criticizing every single thing I do.”

“It is not like this, Arya. I cannot take you because we are not having a large party. All the North will gather at White Harbor and I hoped you could save myself the worry and actually help me by taking care of Bran, Rickon, and your sister while I go.” He answered warmly. She wanted adventures, Ned knew; but Arya was also very loyal to her father and he knew she would take the task to heart as the Kingsguard she wished she could become.

She eyed him suspiciously. But nodded.

“Okay, then. I will.” She said and he got up from his seat to hug her.

“Thank you, Arya.” She then left not as satisfied but also not sad or angry anymore. _That is a win, I guess. I shall settle for that._ He thought to himself.

“You are good with her,” Lyanna said. “As you were with me.” She hugged him too, quickly before anyone could see and speak that she was indeed his mistress.

“Thank you, Lya,” he whispered to her, and he heard Arthur and Oswell speak inside. She then eyed him the same way his child had just done before.

“What is going on? Why are you three here?” She knew there was something off about it, they all avoided being in the same place at the same time.

“Nothing.” Oswell said quietly.

“Tell me,” she said.

“There is nothing to tell, Lya,” Ned tried to lie, but she could see right through Arthur’s purple eyes.

“Tell me, Arthur,” she demanded. She might have been Ayla for years now, but to him she was still his Queen.

“We think Rhaegar might still be alive.” Arthur murmured. She blinked, not really hearing what he said, imagining he probably said something different from what she thought she had heard. _It cannot be. He is dead. He comes to me in dreams but nothing else. Old Nan told me it was my mind playing tricks on me. My heart sending my mind dreams of a life that never was._

“Lyanna?” Ned shook her softly.

“What did you say, Arthur?” she murmured too, too lost in her shock to speak louder than that.

“He was not supposed to say anything until we were sure, I don’t want you hurting over something none of us know if it is even possible,” Ned said harshly.

“He can’t… He… He’s gone.” The tears were glossing her eyes.

“Varys’ whispers came from across the Narrow Sea, speaking of a Silver Prince and his young sister,” Oswell said.

“Her…” Lyanna realized. “The one he was telling about me and Jon.” She then started to cry copiously.

“Lya, don’t, please don’t.” Ned held her tight, while she sobbed on his shoulder.

“If he is really alive, we will find him for you, Lyanna. I promise you, my queen,” Arthur spoke seriously.

She could not answer; she was too lost in the grief she thought she had buried years ago.

“We will, my queen. We promise.” Ser Oswell said, uncharacteristically serious.

She could not answer, but she nodded. The tears were freely flowing.

  

* * *

 

“I’m telling you, Robb. All the beauties that will be there will be so ready to open their legs for the future Lord of Winterfell. Enjoy it, my man. Before your father ties you down to some Northern girl.”

“My father would not appreciate me sleeping with all the maidens in White Harbor, Theon,” Robb said.

“It does not have to be maidens, the servants will do too.” He laughed aloud, and Jon just rolled his eyes.

“You give the worst advices in all the North, Greyjoy,” Jon said. “You know Father would never tolerate this behavior from you, Robb.”

“Just because no girl wants to open their legs for a bastard you get jealous of your brother now, Snow?” Theon laughed.

“Very mature, Theon.” Jon rolled his eyes again. “Come on, you can do better than that,” he said.

“Jon, he doesn’t mean…” Robb tried to smooth down things between them but Jon had no patience to endure Theon Greyjoy’s stupidity right now.

“It’s okay, Robb. There is a book Maester Luwin would like me to read. I will see you later.” He left before anyone could say anything, heading to his chambers.

Before he reached his chambers, he heard her cries. But it was not crying, it was sobbing. It was a cry of pure pain, was it Ayla? What in the seven hells had happened to her?

“Ayla?” He knocked on her chambers. “Can I come in?” Jon asked softly.

It took a few moments for her to answer, but she allowed him in.

The woman was sitting in her bed, holding her legs on her knees and her beautiful face was all red, she seemed like she had been crying for a long time. He had never seen her like this; the woman had been a mother to him his whole life, caring for his every wound, tears and hurts. Her warm hugs and soft hands had been the answer to almost everything. Jon never knew who his mother was, but he liked to think she would be just like Ayla; if not, Ayla herself. However, Jon knew Ned would never bring his mistress to his keep and shame Lady Catelyn this way. Still, a boy could dream.

“What happened? Can I help you with something?” he asked her and she gave him a sad half-smile.

“Nothing, my boy.” She threw her hands to him as if asking for a hug. “Are you too old for a hug? I could really use one right now,” she said.

 _Hugs heal everything_ , she had told him once. He smiled at her.

“I am never too old to hug you, Ayla. You know that.” Jon said, hugging her to him. Ayla smelled of winter roses and hay: she was usually either helping the gardeners at the glass gardens or helping Hullen with the horses.

He hugged her fiercely, while she caressed his hair. She always did that, and it instantly brought him peace.

“You were the one crying and I am the one being coddled?” He laughed.

“Sorry.” She smiled.

“Can I help you with something?” He asked her seriously.

“No, Sweetling. There is nothing you can do to soothe my heart. But thank you for trying,” she said.

“Do you want to ride for a bit? I know that Arya is trying to tire Septa Mordane out and Sansa is sowing Lady Wynafryd a new dress. There is no one you should care for right now.” He knew how much she loved to ride. She cared for Lord Stark’s children, but given they were all-busy, so she could afford the time.

“Bran and Rickon?” She asked.

“Bran is studying with Maester Luwin and Lady Catelyn has Rickon.” She cared for them as if they were her own family, Jon thought. It was a handmaiden’s work but she did it with a warmth only Old Nan could offer.

“I guess I miss Winter.” She smiled at him.

“Come on, I’m beating you today,” he said confidently, helping her out the bed.

“You wish.” She grinned.

  

* * *

 

“I’ve sent word to Magister Illyrio. And other people all over Essos, asking about the Targaryens. If Rhaegar is looking after Daenerys, they will describe us a man with Valyrian appearance doing so. I know for a fact that Viserys is dead, Lord Darry wrote to me about it when I was still at Starfall. If anyone describes Viserys around her, we will know it is actually Rhaegar.” Arthur affirmed.

“How long before we get an answer?” Oswell asked.

“I don’t know. But I hope it is soon.” Arthur answered.

“Rhaegar could be alive, Arthur.” Oswell shook his head. “This is too surreal for me.” He sat on a chair, supporting his chin on his knee.

“You think he will resent us? For not looking for the Princess?” Arthur asked.

“He told us to care for the Prince. The heir.” Oswell said. “As much as that little girl has been in the back of my mind day in, day out, we could not leave Aegon behind.”

“Yes. I guess you are right.” Arthur shrugged.

“How is Ashara?” Oswell murmured.

“We shouldn’t talk of her here. A secret within a secret, remember?” the Dornishman murmured back.

“It is close to Allyria’s name day, I just thought you had some news of them,” Oswell said.

“I do. Just don’t share it with all Winterfell, if you do not mind.” Arthur scowled.

“Don’t be such a brood, Arthur. That was always Rhaegar’s role.” Oswell smiled.

“My niece is fine and she flourishes beautifully, according to my sister. She has our eyes and his hair. Now long and always filled with flowers.” He smiled to himself, speaking as quietly as he could.

“Will she ever tell him about her?” Oswell asked.

“I don’t know. With Robert in power and Catelyn Tully around, I hardly think it would do Ned, Ashara or Allyria any good,” he affirmed.

“I guess you are right,” his friend answered.

“If Rhaegar were King things would have been so much different,” Arthur said quietly. “If Rhaegar were King, no child would have to fear their past.”

“A lot of things would have been different if Rhaegar had been crowned. Maybe we will never know,” Oswell said.

“Or maybe we will,” Ser Arthur Dayne answered, not admitting the hope that filled his heart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What did you guys think of my Northern bit in this one?  
> Next chapter we'll be back to our Targlings.  
> Shit's about to go down :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragons fly to Westeros, where the lions play their game and wolves plan their moves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly had no idea how much you guys would like and support this story. Thank you SO MUCH, it means a lot to me. <3  
> I do think this is the biggest chapter I've ever written in all the fics I've written so far! LOL  
> So excited to hear your thoughts on it, thanks for the love and dig in :D 
> 
> This was beta'd by my beautiful friend, [Fairytalelovr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalelovr/pseuds/fairytalelovr)!

“I am sorry for this weather, my love. I know it does not please you,” Daenerys said to her dragon, Rhaeon, who screeched at the wind. He was growing larger, but not yet large enough.

Daenerys did not want to use the dragons unless necessary.

 _Zasdrizes Buzdari Iksos Daor._ A dragon is not a slave.

Rhaeon, Laeron, and Vhagar were her miracles, her children made of fire and blood. She could not help feeling happy at the sight of them. Rhaeon was closest to her: he was black and red and his scales tickled the tips of her fingers when she caressed him. He would puff a little smoke when he was younger, but now he could actually set someone on fire with the reach of his breath.

Laeron was quite close to Rhaegar, in fondness and nature: they were both solemn, quiet, and dutiful, but fierce and protective of their own when needed. While Vhagar… Oh, her Vhagar. Vhagar was playful and he loved the attention his beautiful cream golden wings got when he flew.

A child indeed.

A child. She could not stop her mind from wandering to her brother’s child. Was he really alive? Was Rhaegar once again taken by grief as he was every now and then? If this child was fruit of him and Lyanna Stark, how did he manage to grow up in Westeros and not be killed by the Usurper?

Robert Baratheon. Her heart ached at that name, but for once, in anger. She never cared for richness or even getting the throne back, she had her mother and brother. She could have had Viserys too, but life had other plans.

But then he did the one thing that had crumbled her indifference, bringing her to a state of pain and pure anger: he killed Rhaella. Rhaegar had found out Tywin Lannister killed their mother by orders of King Robert. Not with his paws, of course. The man was too self-serving to dirty his hands this way. No, he sent someone to do the job for him.

Her beautiful mother, Rhaella Targaryen had been nothing but kind, strong, beautiful, and so loving to both her children. She would tell her stories of her House, of her upbringing… Stories of Summerhall, a place Rhaegar seemed to miss more than any other in Westeros, and also of the Red Keep.

She never seemed too fond of the place, but she was of her early memories. How a knight crowned her his Queen of Love and Beauty, and how her mother would sing to her at night, sometimes even during the day, just to entertain her daughter.

Her fondness did not reach the dark days she shared with her brother. Rhaegar and Viserys seemed to be her only sparkle of light amongst all the darkness that surrounded her in Aerys’ presence.

Daenerys remembered the night she was having bad dreams, of snow monsters and giant spiders, and Rhaella woke her up and cuddled up in bed with her, telling tales of Old Valyria or Queen Alysanne, her favorite.

She missed her mother so much, but she could not bring back the dead. She could only help her brother with his quest and pray for it to be true. She wanted to see Rhaegar’s smile, she would not know how to see his misery bring him down once more. Rhaegar had such a loving face, a beautiful smile, one she wished she could see more often.

That night, she dreamt she was on a castle, ancient and made of stones, the place looked as old as time, but she could not ignore its beauty. It was a lonely, sad beauty, but beautiful nonetheless. She heard steps behind her and she turned around to see him: tall, lean, long faced, with eyes as grey as the wolf carved on his breastplate. He was surprised to see her too, he seemed to breath heavily, was he… climbing up a stair? Were they in a tower, then?

“Who are you?” his heavily accented voice asked her.

She did not know if she should answer, so she just eyed him suspiciously. She did not see her figure but somehow she knew she was wearing her lilac dress, the one Rhaegar given her in her last name day.

“Can you tell me your name?” he tried again, this time trying not to scare her.

“You are in my dream, should you not know it?” It made no sense, he was in her dream, he should know whose dreams he inhabited.

“You are in my dream, My Lady.” It was his turn to be suspicious.

“If I am in your dreams, you wanted me here. If I am in your dreams, you might not know my name, but you know me, somehow,” he pointed out to her.

“It makes no sense.” She snorted.

“Okay, then. Three questions, each get to ask three things of each other,” the boy suggested and she smiled. He looked at her strangely then.

“Okay, I like your idea,” she said. “Stop looking at me like that, would you?” She felt weird under his gaze. Good weird, but she would not clarify that.

The boy blushed and nodded.

“Ladies first. So you go, then,” he said.

“What is your name?” she asked and he laughed. “Way to turn things around, hum?”

“Come on.” She was liking their game.

“Jon. My name is Jon.” He bowed to her, she shook him off. She hated when people bowed to her, she was hardly a true princess anymore. But his eyes did not feel envious or hungry as those who bowed to her so many times before, his eyes were kind and smiley. His nose was shapely and his mouth was sinful. _Where did these thoughts came from?_ she asked herself.

“My turn. I will not ask your name again; you will tell me in time.” He smiled smugly. “But where are you? Outside this dream?” He could see her wardrobe did not seem made for the harsh Northern weather.

“I am in a boat, crossing the Narrow Sea,” she said and it got him even more curious.

“Where from?” he asked before he could think twice.

“Is this your second question, then?” She bit her lip, she did not want to say, but she would if he asked.

“No, no. Sorry.” He settled himself in a chair, as if their talk would be long and he wanted to create a comfortable environment for her to enjoy it.

“My turn, then.” She sat in a bed, the mattress was soft and the smell was amazing. What was that incredible scent?

“What is this amazing smell?” She could not stop the question from leaving her lips.

“This? It’s from the winter roses my friend cares for. This is her bedroom. Not sure why my dream brought me here.” He chuckled. Ayla loved the flowers, he remembered her wet smile when he had been a child and made her a crown of winter roses. Robb had warned him she would be mad, she would scold him for destroying her roses, but the kind woman only thanked him, held him tight, and if he had not been mistaken, she cried a little.

Ayla was the only woman with the ability to make him feel loved as he imagined a mother could.

Daenerys saw his mental monologue and she admired the man before her. He was more handsome than she realized at first, his dark hair curled and wild. His nose was shapely and his jaw strong for what it seemed like a no more than fifteen-year-old boy. His lips were full and for once, she imagined what it would be like to kiss a boy.

“Sorry. Got lost in my head.” He reddened and shrugged it off.

“I know,” she said. “It’s your turn now, Jon.” She liked the sound of his name on her lips, his smiled seemed to show he did too.

“Are coming to Westeros or leaving it?” He wanted to know where she was, he felt the strange urge to be around her.

“Heading to Westeros.” She saw a glint in his eyes, it made her heart race.

“My last question.” She looked at her feet, a bit embarrassed.

“Hey, you can ask me whatever you want.” Jon felt her insecurity.

“Can I kiss you?” she blurted out. She did not know where it came from, just that she really wanted to.

Instead of looking smug and attacking her, he nodded softly. He got up from his chair and got close to her. She got up as well, sitting in the bed, leaving him space right beside her.

He took her hand, bringing her close to him, and touched her cheek. Her skin was porcelain, yet so soft. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, her eyes were lilac, her lips cherry red, her nose a bit rose from the cold, he thought it only made her look even more beautiful. Her hair was a cascade of silver-white locks, that he touched before his lips found hers.

Daenerys woke up in her cabin, breathing heavily and her heart exploding in her chest.

 _What just happened?_ Daenerys thought to herself, afraid she was descending into Targaryen madness. Before she could think too much about it, she fell asleep again, this time into a silent calmness that took over her until morning.

 

* * *

 

Jon woke up not even halfway through the night. He remembered his dream quite perfectly, she was too beautiful to forget. He was at Ayla’s room with the prettiest girl he had ever seen, surrounded by the smell of Ayla’s roses and entranced by those lilac stranger’s eyes.

He wanted more, he wanted to go back there. Somehow, he knew she would not be there once he slept again. He sighed and got up on one hand, he could see Robb sleeping beside him and Addam at his other side. They were camping on their way to White Harbor, it was a long way down.

Theon Greyjoy stayed at Winterfell with Lady Catelyn and Ser Ryam, and also the girls… until they realized Arya had followed them to White Harbor. Oh, his father had been mad.

He could laugh now, but Arya was still grounded. They had sent a raven to warn Lady Catelyn of their child’s misbehaving, but Arya seemed pretty pleased with herself. Addam even laughed a little, until his father glared at his man, causing Jon himself to hold back the laugh he knew Jory and Robb already had.

He went back to sleep, wishing for his girl’s presence, even though he knew he would not reach her again tonight.

 

Come morning, they had arrived at White Harbor. The road was long and windy, winter was coming, as his father’s words said, and one could feel it in the iced wind they fought against riding south.

Lord Manderly welcomed them with honors, directing them for his granddaughters to lead to their chambers. Robb and Jon would share a room, while Arya would sleep in their linked room. She was very vocal about it, complaining was a gift to his spitfire of a sister.

He could see Robb and Wylla Manderly flirting, his brother was a charmer. No girl refused his attentions, it was easy to see. He bit back a laugh, Addam saw what he was reacting to and shook his head. Everyone at Winterfell knew of Robb’s talent with the ladies. Unlike Jon himself, who kept it to himself, only ever kissing, having never bedded a girl in his life.

“Hey, you think we’ll see mermen here?” Arya murmured, excited.

“Did you not see Lord Manderly? He seems like one all right.” Jory laughed and so did Arya. _Oh, those two._

“Behave, Jory,” Addam reprehended him, but Jon saw the smile that reached his face when he heard it.

“He can’t help himself, Addam,” Jon mocked the Stark man, while following the Manderly girl where she led him.

After they had all settled where they were supposed to, they bathed, rested and got themselves ready for the feast. The wedding would be tomorrow night, but guests were still arriving, and as men and guards of the Warden of the North, it was their duty to accompany Lord Stark to his duty.

Jon was a bastard, he imagined no one would demand him to sit on the high table with his father and brother. Arya was talking excitedly to Lady Mormont; he could surely see the plans forming in her mind. Oh, if only Lord Stark could see her now.

But the man was busy with his bannermen, Addam keeping him guard as a Manderly man and Jory laughed about something. There was something odd about Addam’s behavior the last few days: the man had been eerie, almost a bit too nervous. Addam was never nervous, but there was no other word to define him now.

“Hi.” A girl showed up beside him, she had a pretty face, but she was nothing like the one he saw in his dream.

“Hello,” Jon said quietly.

“You are Jon Snow, right?” She eyed him up and down.

“Yes, I am Lord Stark’s bastard son.” He hated the words as much as he hated the fact. He dreamt of legitimacy and acceptance ever since he could remember himself able to dream.

Robb, Arya, and Bran loved him entirely amongst his brothers and sisters. Sansa pretty much ignored him as her mother did, and Rickon was too small to understand the concept of a bastard, so he also treated Jon with the same love as Robb and Bran did.

Arya, though… He smiled to himself. Arya was his little sister, his wild pup. She loved him the most and no one understood him as she did. Except for Ayla. He remembered all the nights he wished she was his mother and Lord Stark’s wife. He wanted to be legitimated but also loved. The woman loved him deeply, he knew it for a fact. She was not the mother the Gods gave to him, but the one life did, and he took for himself.

Addam and Ryam took care of him as they did Robb and all the other Starks, and Ser Rodrik trained him even harder than Robb, which sometimes seemed to upset Lady Catelyn. Jory treated him as he did his brothers, but everyone else in the castle had their own way to deal with Winterfell’s bastard.

Jon did not mind, or that was what he tried to tell himself.

“Well, Jon. Bastard or not, would you like to dance with me?” the girl asked him. He blushed, he was not used to get anyone’s attentions.

“Are you sure you want to dance… with me?” He eyed her eerily.

“Quite certain.” She smiled. “Oh, the name is Lyra, Lyra Mormont.”

He shrugged, and went along, joining the dance for the first time in what? Ever? His brother was eyeing him and the she-bear while he held Wylla Manderly at his arms.

 

* * *

 

Lord Eddard looked at him from afar, the Warden of the North looked amused to see his sons enjoying the evening, northerners were not given to indulge follies such as Southerners were, but when they gathered, it was usually bathed in ale, marvelous feasts and good dancing.

“My Wylla seems as happy as I have ever seen her in your son’s arms, My Lord,” Lord Manderly affirmed. Everyone was aware of the man’s wishes to wed one of his granddaughters to the heir to the North.

“She is a beautiful girl, my Lord,” Ned answered, he did not want to firm the betrothal without further thinking. He knew he had no better choice in the North, as the girl was noble, gentle and beautiful. But he also had South.

He did not have the Southern ambitions that had driven his father to force his sister into an unwanted alliance, but he knew the North could benefit from the richness of the Southerners once winter came, with their support would come all to help them get through the cold winds.

Robb was indeed smiling, but so was Jon. Jon was dancing with one of Lady Maege’s daughters and he realized it had been a while since he watched his son’s shy smile shine. Jon was so injured by the name Ned had given him, but he could not bring himself to regret it.

This decision was what allowed him to smile now, apparently dancing really badly, Eddard smiled to himself. That decision allowed his sister to raise him as her own in all but name.

He thought back to the claims that Rhaegar Targaryen lived.

What would it mean for them? Would the man keep on with his Essosi life and never learn of his child, moving on from all that came from Westeros? Or would he come back South and claim the throne Robert had taken from his family now that Queen Rhaella had been murdered? Deep down, Ned knew that either Robert or Tywin had had a hand in it. Lord Tywin always affirmed how dangerous it was to let the woman and her children live.

Now, it seemed that the man could be right.

If it came to a fight, who would Ned fight for? Robert was no longer the boy he grew up with. Robert Baratheon had been joyous, charismatic, fun, and loyal. King Robert, the First of His Name, was a drunken fool according to their fostering father. He knew Jon Arryn enough to know what his words meant. Robert cared for nothing but his drinks and his women, and he definitely did not rule over Westeros, that job was left for Tywin Lannister, the Hand of the King. Lyanna would never forgive him for fighting against Rhaegar, but he had a duty to his House and his people.

Lyanna.

His reckless, kind, and loving sister. Catelyn very openly disliked her, but ever since she found out Ayla was Lyanna and Jon was hers, she had never again tried anything against her, as she had before, trying to make Ned force her out of their keep.

Catelyn was supposed to come with him but Addam claimed it would be safer for her to stay back at Winterfell, especially now with the flying rumors. He loved his wife, he truly did. He had not when they wed, but it grew with time. However, he was never pleased with her treatment towards his family, but always felt too guilty by the shame the Realm believed her to go through to blame her.

He was once in love, but no. He would not entertain such thoughts. He was haunted enough by her similarities to her brother, the brother he housed now. Their eyes were so similar, those haunting smiling eyes. Except Arthur’s were harder, solid, while hers were a pool of the sweetest color he had ever seen. And the man mouthed no word of his sister, her death had broken many hearts but probably none harder than Arthur’s and Ned’s.

“My Lord? Would you come with us, please? There is someone that wishes to speak to you,” a Stark guard whispered to him.

“Excuse me, My Lord.” Ned nodded to Wyman Manderly and followed his guard.

 

* * *

 

“You will get wrinkles, you know? You frown too much and too hard.” Daenerys sat beside Rhaegar, tickling his face to stop him from his constant frown.

“I am old, sister. Wrinkles come with age.” He smiled at her.

“Oh, wow. Look at you, at the high of your thirties.” She laughed and he just shrugged.

“King Jaehaerys got to his 69 name days, you know? He was old. You are not.” His suffering took years from him, but he did not look old in his age. He had tiredness in his eyes and a melancholy that without he could look ten years younger, but he was as handsome as their Valyrian roots allowed them.

“I appreciate your words, Dany, but I do own a mirror.” He shrugged.

She ignored his self-deprecation. They were just about to hit shore and she imagined how nervous he was now.

“Are you sure he is real, Rhae?” Daenerys asked him, at once. She had to. “Are you sure he is here, waiting for you? Are you ready to tell someone about your true identity?” She was afraid they would take Rhaegar away from her too. He and her dragons were all she had.

“As Daenys the dreamer, sister.” He had told her many times about the Targaryen that foresaw the destruction of Valyria and saved their entire House because of it.

“I…” She did not know if she should tell him about her dream. For some reason, she wanted to keep it for herself, her beautiful little memory.

She noticed he had his eyes far, Rhaegar was not anxious—he was usually very calm, both if happy or sad—but now he was all but calm.

“I think we’re almost there.” She saw a port a few good moments ahead of them. It would be her first time in Westerosi soil, for some reason she was nervous too.

“I swore I would never come back here,” he murmured. “But Jon needs me, somehow I know he does,” Rhaegar said, she froze in place.

“Jon?” She did not believe in coincidences.

“I dreamt of him yesterday too, Ned Stark called after him and he answered, his name was Jon,” Rhaegar answered, not noticing her shock.

“Ned Stark? Did he not…?” She imagined himself their enemies, not allies.

“Ned Stark had no blame over our House’s demise, Dany. That was on me and father,” He answered her.

“Rhae…” She hated how he blamed himself for all the misery Westeros went through.

“It’s okay, sister. If I look back, I am lost. The past is already written; the ink is dry.”

“But the future is not, so let’s focus on that, shall we?” She held his hand. She could hear their dragons screech and she looked at them fondly. They seemed to wish to share the Targaryen moment.

She laughed.

“Jealous much, are we?” She indulged Rhaeon’s demands, also nesting Vhagar in her arms as Rhaeon disputed her attention with his brother.

Laeron, as usual, screeched for her attention but calmed down at Rhaegar’s lap. Nesting its head in it, playing his tail against the woods of the boat they were in.

“We need to hide them,” Rhaegar said. He hated the idea of locking the dragons up, but he and Daenerys both knew the danger of letting them free.

“I know.” Dany let out a breath. “I hate it.” She caressed Vhagar’s head and Rhaeon’s prickly back.

“I know, I do too,” he answered her. “But it’s for a short time, Dany.”

“Do you even have a plan?” she asked it to him for the first time since they’d left Volantis. She wanted him to reunite with his child, but she feared for their lives.

“They won’t recognize us, our glamors hide who we are, but the dragons can’t stay locked forever,” Rhaegar said. “I once believed in a prophecy, I did everything in order to fulfill it, I never knew it would lead me to my greatest love…” He was distant again. “…and our House’s demise.”

“So, no plan?” Daenerys asked. Rhaegar was never reckless, never did anything without thinking every possible outcome through. It worried her to see him this way.

“Not yet,” he said and kissed her forehead. “We are arriving,” he said and she took her two dragons, while Rhaegar had Laeron at his back.

They went below deck and locked their dragons up. They knew it was risky, but the ship was all theirs, except for five men that guarded it and helped them sail. Five Unsullied they had freed from their miserable fate.

He knew those men would guard the place with their lives.

She was wearing a rose golden dress underneath her white furs. Furs that kept her warm, aligned with her Targaryen blood that protected her against the cold.

Rhaegar wore a black fur above his blue doublet and grey breeches.

She took his arm and prepared herself to meet Jon. Was he real or not, she would soon find out.

 

* * *

 

“Sweetling, you look beautiful, you need nothing else,” Ashara insisted with Allyria, who seemed to have the time of her life dressing up.

“It is my six-and-tenth name day, Mother. I want to be the prettiest girl in the room.” She smiled at her mother, coyly.

“You are, Allyria.” Ashara noticed a volume on her waist.

“What is that, Ally?” Her mother touched her waist and the girl blushed.

“My dagger,” she whispered softly.

“Why are carrying a dagger with you now, darling? You are at your own keep, you are safe.” She hated how unsafe her daughter felt, knowing the risks they ran only for existing. They did not have many parties, very few people knew she had lived and who her daughter really was, most knew her as Allyria Dayne, the daughter of the former Lord of Starfall and little sister to the current one.

Ashara could not tell anyone about her, she did not wish for her daughter the weight of being a bastard, even if she had been born out of love. Also, Robert Baratheon wanted her neck as much as he had wanted every Targaryen loyalist’s. She had been Elia’s closest friend and for some time Lyanna’s only company, before they had left for Winterfell.

Elia had asked her to help Rhaegar, so it would also help herself, and she did. It nearly destroyed her to learn of her best friend’s fate. It brought her to an early labor and her near death. But she endured.

For Allyria and for him.

Even knowing Ned had wed another and would never be hers again, Ashara could not bring herself to hate him. He’d done it because he was made to, not because he wanted, even if it hurt no less.

In truth, she hated him for it sometimes. Most of all the nights when Allyria had cried for her non-existing father or when Ashara thought of the days long gone and all it took with it.

So for now, she was Septa Lemore, even if she was not even ordained and it was all for show, it let her be close to her girl without suspicions.

“I wish he could have been here, you know?” Ashara told her daughter, not taking away her knife. The girl was talented with one, and it made her feel safe.

Her daughter’s purple eyes looked back at her.

“Who?” she asked, though there was clear knowledge in her face.

“Your father. I know he would think you are the prettiest girl Westeros has ever seen.” She caressed her cheek. “I know I do.”

The girl sniffed but then laughed.

“Stop it, you have to say that.” Allyria shrugged. “You are my mother,” she whispered very lowly.

“Well, being so or not, you are late,” she said, urging the girl to leave her chambers.

“Okay, okay…” She got up from her seat and walked beside her to the Great Hall, where she had guests waiting for her to celebrate her name day.

Ashara noticed a guard presence she had not imagined she would see here.

Golden and red, Lannister guards protected the princess and prince, and also an obnoxious boy she imagined to be Prince Joffrey. Their mother was between the little girl and boy.

She had not invited them and could not understand their presence, but being the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Ashara could not just tell them to leave.

She urged Allyria, who was staring at the same people, forward. The girl straightened her back and went, bowing to Cersei and her children.

“My Lady, we traveled all the way from King’s Landing to share this lovely evening with you.” Joffrey threw his best charming smile to her. Ashara hoped her daughter knew better than to be flattered.

“Thank you, My Prince.” She nodded also. “You flatter me with your presence.”

“Aren’t you a beauty, just like your sister.” Cersei came forward and touched Allyria’s cheek, caressing it as a snake did her pray.

“Thank you, my Queen.” Allyria, ever the charmer, bowed once more.

“You are really pretty.” Myrcella was shy but she could not help but blurt it out. The Daynes were known for their beauty as well for their swordsmanship and beautiful sword.

“Can I see Dawn?” the little boy asked. Allyria chuckled.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, my Prince. But Dawn is lost, my brother held her last when he was murdered and we never saw it again.” She knew Arthur held it somewhere in Westeros, although Ashara did not say where. But she also was aware that no one could find out.

“Oh, no.” Prince Tommen seemed taken by sadness.

Ashara then heard his chuckle and saw his golden hair and white cloak. The cloak he did not deserve to wear, she thought angrily.

“I saw it, you know?” Ser Jaime said. “Ser Arthur Dayne was the greatest swordsman I have ever seen.” He seemed a bit nostalgic. What had he to be nostalgic about? He had not protected Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon, too busy killing Aerys. He had no right to miss Arthur, Rhaegar, or any of the brothers he had betrayed.

“It was majestic. Both the blade and the man himself,” he affirmed.

“Yes, but even the best of swordsmen can fall and lose their blades and their lives.” Septa Lemore affirmed, angry at his boldness to mention her brother, but rightly noticing her mistake. She was safe by the spell, but she still trembled inside.

“And you are…?” he asked.

“Septa Lemore, Ser.” She bowed stiffly at him.

“Yes, Septa. Even the best of us fall,” he said.

 _I hope you will,_ she thought to herself.

“I hope you can all be comfortable, the place of honor at our dais awaits you.” Allyria deviated the attention to herself.

“Thank you, My Lady,” the Queen said, passing by without a second glance.

What were they doing there? Lannisters did not like Dorne and the Dornish did not like them.

For the first time in years, Ashara did the one thing she did not imagine she would, she penned a letter, in hurry and secrecy. The hawk left Starfall before she, Allyria, and Edric could follow.

 

* * *

 

“You need to move your feet, little one.” Addam disarmed Arya once again. “This is not just about the swords, it’s about your feet, your balance, your eyes. You have to see with all of your senses and have your feet not just moving, but dancing the dance of swords,” he instructed her while both used their wooden swords to do so.

The feast was near its end and Arya had grown bored of the dances and small talk, so she asked Addam to train with her. He was right outside the Hall, where he could still see Jon and Eddard from where he stood.

Arya was as fierce as Lyanna, he had taught her how wield a sword as well, but the Queen preferred jousting and the bow and arrow. Little Arya loved her sword as much as her sister loved her sewing needles.

It was no wonder that she had named the sword Jon had made for her so, Needle. Addam smiled at the name: it suited her perfectly. A shame her mother had found it between her clothes, having torn up a few. The girl had been grounded and her father had refused her permission to come, telling her to stay behind with her brothers and sisters. But she had sneaked out and found her way into their group anyway.

Addam was pretty sure she would be grounded forever this time. But before, she had taken Needle with her, she had told him in secrecy. He was having too much of a good time to tell on her.

He noticed a man walking past him, taken by a Stark guard, and a girl beside him. His wife? His daughter? Not that Addam actually cared, but any person around Jon was of his interest, and also Eddard.

He resented the man’s marriage to Catelyn Tully, leaving Ashara alone with their daughter, but seeing how badly he had suffered at the news of her death, he almost forgave him. He had spent years in Essos, looking for Daenerys, knowing Ser Oswell would care for Jon while he was away. Years he had claimed to have stayed in Starfall. In truth, he only stayed with his sister for a year, a year he had seen his niece grow up to love flowers as much she loved seeing his swordplay. A Dornish woman indeed, her Northern roots could be found in her brown hair and the face longer than his sister’s. She was also as graceful as Ashara, but as playful as Brandon Stark had been. Lyanna too. Mayhap Allyria did have the wolf’s blood after all.

He knew Arya and her would be the best of friends, and it made him miss his sister and niece all the more.

But he tried not to deviate his attention from the man. He was tall and his face was half hidden behind a cape, the girl beside him was black-haired and she was way shorter than her companion.

He saw the man be stopped near them, asking to wait for the Lord himself to arrive. Addam took his eyes from the man, turning back to Arya who demanded his attention. Her dress was already dirty, as well as her boots. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, much like her father’s.

The man looked at Arya and got a bit too close. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“May I help you, My Lord?” He made Arya stay behind him, he could hear her complaint. “hey!”

“She…” The man seemed lost in words, his black eyes wet, his cloak down now, his face was common and plain, but his eyes were full of tears.

“We are waiting for the Lord here, aren’t we?” The girl grabbed his arm, as if she tried to take him away from his presence.

“Lyanna?” He blurted out before he could help himself.

“Excuse me?” Addam was shocked. How could he know… He then looked at the man’s arm the girl held. A blood-red bracelet, one he knew very well, he had bought for his niece should they need one. Bought with blood, as all the Lord of Light did demanded.

It couldn’t be…

“Pardon my husband, my Lord. He’s just too tired from our trip.” The girl’s voice was sweet and soft.

“And where did you come from?” Addam asked, his heart beating too fast to hold back his questions.

“Dorne.” She tried to look calm, but he could see through it.

“Where in Dorne? I am Dornish, actually,” Addam said, the man seemed to rationalize something, and gave into his wife’s demands, backing away from him and Arya.

“The Red Mountains, actually.” She seemed to blurt out things instead of rationally saying them.

“Excuse us, you just astounded me,” the Lord finally said.

“Why did you call me Lyanna? That was my aunt, silly.” Arya shrugged.

“I… I knew her once, a long time ago.” The alleged Dornish bowed to them and distanced himself alongside his wife. When the man took her arm in his, he could see she wore the same bracelet as he did.

Addam’s head was spinning fast, he wanted to find a more rational answer to his disturbed conclusions, but he could not.

“Addam? Are you okay?” Arya asked him.

“I am, little one. Can you go inside, please? I need to find your Lord father. Please, stay near Jon or Robb, Jory is inside with them and our men, okay?” he asked and knew she was disappointed to stop their training, but she respected and liked him enough to obey.

Lord Eddard then came out of the Great Hall into the patio they where at.

The man offered him something, and he could see Ned found it odd. He took a box from the man, and shook the man’s hand. The conversation was brief, but in the end, the man joined Ned into the Hall, and Addam wondered what had the man said to Eddard Stark, and if there was any chance the man was who reason made it seem that he was? It was hard to imagine he was not. Addam always trusted his gut, and now it told him the man was his Prince, but first, he needed proof.

 

The man was invited into the party, he presented Lord Manderly with presents for his granddaughter’s wedding. The Lady blushed under the man’s gallant words, her future husband, Smalljon Umber, shook the man’s hand and kissed the stranger’s wife’s hand.

“Lord Eddard, may I have a word?” Addam approached Ned, who spoke with the man and Lord Umber.

“Sure, excuse me.” Ned excused himself, heading outside to speak with Addam.

“Who’s the man who just arrived, Ned?” Addam asked him.

“He’s a Magister from Volantis, he had sent Lord Manderly note of his arrival. He wants to buy our ironwood in exchange of millions of dragons. An unsettling amount that will help us through winter,” Ned said.

“And you can’t see the problem with that?” How could Ned not see the disparity of the man’s offers? It was too good to be true.

“Sure, I told him we would only accept the wood’s proper value and nothing more. I am not stupid, Addam.” Ned got defensive.

“Ned, why would a Magister from Volantis need ironwood?”

“Magister Lucerys said the Lords who worship R’hllor see power in it,” Ned said.

“Oh, Eddard…” Addam shook his head.

“You think he’s not who he says he is? You…” Ned seemed to understand what he meant.

“You think he’s sent from Rhaegar?” Ned whispered as lowly as he could.

“He could be an spy for the Hand of the King as well.” Addam did not want to affirm anything without being sure of himself.

“He doesn’t seem Westerosi, Addam.”

“Yeah, give me tonight, okay?” he asked the Lord.

“Okay.” Ned nodded.

“Now go back to being a Lord, I’ll dig up more on him,” Addam said. “But please, keep Jon and Robb away from the man’s wife, will you? The boys have been ogling her from the moment they arrived, and if she is indeed his wife, I don’t think we need the man wanting to kill them, do we?” Addam pointed out Jon looking at the girl, right next to Robb, who seemed quite taken with the girl as well, not returning for a second dance with Lady Wylla.

But the girl only had eyes for Jon.

“Oh, those two.” Ned sighed.

“Let me know what you find.” Ned said and ran after his stupid sons.

 

The man was staying at New Castle, Addam learned. He wished Oswell could be here, he knew the man was good at investigating.

Addam learned the room the man was staying with his wife and snuck into it, and heard later that night their conversation.

The girl was dressed for bed in a moment and the man was laying on a couch. Man and wife?

“He’s wonderful, is he not?” Lucerys said to the woman. “He was polite, even if a bit shy, but I was told he’s bright with a sword and he was kind and he seemed to be quite close with the Stark boy, so they do treat him well.”

“I know, he was… very proper and gallant. But very shy, if not a bit solemn.” She bit her lip. “He’s taken a lot after his father, I’d say.” The light was dim, very few candles lit at the room, but Addam saw the girl’s blush.

 _His father?_ Addam was then Arthur once again, his Kingsguard heart racing fast.

“Can I take off the bracelet, Rhae? It’s too tight, it bothers me sometimes. I’ll put it back on the morrow,” the Lady said and the man chuckled.

“Sorry, Dany. We do not know who we can count on, we can’t run the risk of getting caught.” The man Arthur now knew to be Rhaegar said.

There was no point in hiding, then.

Arthur left the wardrobe he was hidden in.

“Who are you?” Rhaegar got on his feet as fast as they had learned as boys. He was holding a sword Arthur did not know where he had taken from.

Arthur held Dawn and looked at the man’s brown eyes, wondering if he took the bracelet, it would turn back to indigo instantly.

“Your Grace.” He wielded Dawn before him and knelt before the man.

The man’s face seemed taken by emotions, shock, confusion, recognition, pain. He could hear the girl’s voice asking from afar who was he and how did he know who they were.

“My name is Arthur Dayne and I have been your brother’s sworn sword for most of my life,” Arthur whispered — reveals were being made here, but they were not meant for anyone else to hear.

“Arthur…” Rhaegar got on his feet and held his friend. It was a tight and awkward hug. He heard the man sob as quietly as he could and he held back his King.

The girl asked no more.

After a moment, both men got on their feet. Arthur imagined his looks changed back to what he was to Rhaegar’s eyes, knowing his secret, it lift up the spell.

“I heard you were dead, I heard Eddard Stark killed you. I went to the Tower of Joy and I wept your passing, my friend.” Rhaegar’s heavy voice reached him.

“I was, My King. To the world, I am now Addam Sand, a knighted bastard who serves the Starks after being saved at the Red Mountains of Dorne, alongside my friend, Ryam Sand, the man you know as Oswell Whent,” he explained. Words could not express what he felt right now. It was like traveling through time.

“Oswell…? Oh, Gods!” Rhaegar seemed so happy, but the face was not Rhaegar’s, it was a stranger. A dragon dressed in a sheep’s clothing.

“There is so much you need to know, My King.” Arthur patted his shoulder and Rhaegar turned to his sister. Arthur now knew she was Daenerys Targaryen.

“You can take off your bracelet for a moment, sister,” he said warmly, doing the same himself.

Arthur did not see his Prince, he was too affected by the beautiful young lady before him, she was the perfect image of his Queen. His heart ached remembering her death, but also rejoiced knowing she lived. She had beat Robert Baratheon’s attempts of murder and she lived, who knows, just to spite him.

“It’s a pleasure, My Princess. You are the perfect image of your royal mother. Queen Rhaella was the kindest of souls.” Arthur bowed to her, who blushed and shook her head.

“Oh, don’t bow please. I’m not a real princess anymore.” She shook it off.

“You will always be a princess, sister,” Rhaegar told her, touching her hand.

“If you’ll excuse me, My King. You look old.” Arthur laughed and Rhaegar did too. It was refreshing to hear it, the girl seemed to think.

“You look exactly as she described you would be.” Arthur remembered Lyanna’s whispers of her husband’s looks.

“Who?” Rhaegar silently asked, fearing the hope that was rising in his chest.

“Lyanna,” Arthur said. 

 

* * *

 

Jon Arryn was standing in his chambers, preparing himself for the Council meeting. He had just argued with Robert over the decision to murder Rhaella Targaryen. It had been unnecessary and free violence.

The woman could have no new legitimate heirs with Aerys being gone and Daenerys was just a young girl from what they had been told. Some said Viserys had lived and cared for the girl now, so it was as if they had just given the Targaryens an extra motivation to fight to get their throne back.

“FUCK THE TARGARYENS. MAY VISERYS TARGARYEN GET BACK TO WESTEROS SO I CAN CRACK HIS SKULL OR JUST SMASH HIS CHEST AS I DID WITH HIS RAPIST BROTHER!” Robert was almost purple with anger. Jon knew he would be getting nowhere now.

“I raised you better than that, Robert,” Jon insisted. “Why kick what’s already on the floor? They are gone, they are memories. The Targaryen dynasty ended with Rhaegar and it should stay that way. You don’t kill the former Queen to get it, Queen Rhaella was loved by all. Do you want to give your people reasons to question your actions too?” His point was right, but the Stag King would not have it.

“You are questioning my sanity now? Who do you take me for, Lord Arryn? Aerys Targaryen?” he roared at his face.

“Will you start acting like him?” Maybe he had crossed a line there, he could see Robert was not far from hitting him, but he held back.

“I will ignore your stupid actions for the respect I hold for you, Lord Arryn. But mind. Your. Tongue.” There was no warmth in his voice, only anger and a far smell of alcohol.

“The Crown is drowned in debt, Robert. We need to do something about it. The Mad King left behind the Crown’s bank full. We need to get back on our feet,” Arryn insisted anyway.

“I am a King. My feet are right where they are needed, My Lord. Now you should go back to your chambers and cool down your head before you say something else you regret.” It was more of a hiss than spoken words.

“I am only trying to help you, son,” Jon Arryn tried reasoning with him.

“Thank you for your help. Now go help me by thinking better on what you say to your King, old man.” Robert was not himself, it was easy for Jon to see. The warm, happy, brave and adventurous boy was nowhere in the drunken and fat fool he saw before him.

“As you wish, Your Grace,” Jon Arryn bowed and left the room. Robert used to hate when he did that, Jon wondered if had taken a liking to it now. Mayhap he was too drunk to care, and he had gone right back to his whores.

 

“Lord Arryn?” Grand Maester Pycelle knocked at his chambers’ opened door.

“Yes, Grand Maester?” He loathed the man.

“Lord Tywin is calling off the Council meeting. The Lord Hand has a meeting with the Iron Bank and Ser Barristan was sent to see to the training of the King’s squire. The King demanded it,” the decrepit man said.

“May you ask the Lord Hand to inform me when the next meeting is called? Thank you, Grand Maester,” Jon asked and saw the man drag himself back to the Tower of the Hand. Everyone was aware of the devotion the Maester held for the Lord of Lannister.

Jon drank his ale, the one the King had presented him on his last name day. Lysa was at the Vale with Sweet Robin and even if his Lady wife was not loving or warm at all, he wished for her presence. She would talk to him about their children, and after failing Robert, and having lost all the children life gave him, he hoped for his boy to be raised as a good man, the future Lord of the Vale. Ned had been his only pride in life, but Ned was the Warden of his own land. Robin would learn how to rule over the Vale and be Warden of the East. Even if it was the last thing he would do in this life.

He felt a warmth take over his body and an insufferable heat over his head and neck. He could not breathe or even move. He felt his throat close and his whole body started shaking, he fell on the floor, his eyes tearing blood. He felt the life drain out of him, as he prayed for the Gods to have Robin grow up a good man. He had also prayed for Rhaegar Targaryen to be really alive, since Tywin was the actual King now, Westeros would be at war soon. Robert was too foolish to be an actual King. He had been a warrior, not a ruler. As he drew his last breath, he whispered.

“Ned.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What did you guys think? I can't wait to hear your thoughts on it.  
> If you have any doubts, just ask me, but there are some things I'll reveal in time, okay?  
> OMG, you guys got me so excited with this story I'm already working on chapter 4! <3  
> Thank you so much for all the love and support, you guys are awesome! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two souls bonding in dreams, as the game of thrones starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Sorry for the long wait, here is the new chapter.  
> Sending big love to my lovely beta, [fairytalelovr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalelovr/pseuds/fairytalelovr), she is amazing and given this story was written for her, I wouldn't be here without this bean <3

Ashara was nervous as she paced the halls of the Pale Sword Tower, trying to make sense of the Lannister visit. Cersei Lannister was Robert’s Queen and the Hand’s daughter, she went nowhere without a cause, did nothing without a purpose. Her being in Dorne could only mean the worst, for the Lannisters hated Dorne as much as Dorne hated them. No one had forgiven them slaughtering Elia and the children. Dearest Elia, sweetest Rhaenys, poor baby Aegon.

The worst was Jaime Lannister, standing by his sister’s side all tall and proud. Had he forgotten how he failed Elia? Had he forgotten how he did not only murdered the King, but also helped crown one of the worst ones in the history of Westeros? She wondered if he ever truly felt guilty. He had admired Arthur a great deal, but then again most people had, since Arthur was a true knight. Artie had been good and just probably from the cradle.

Arthur now hated Jaime for his weakness and betrayal, yet something in the White Lion’s eyes told Ashara he was not as comfortable with himself as he made it out to be. He had asked her about Dawn, and she, as Septa Lemore, had to play the part and promptly give him all the answers he needed.

“The current location of House Dayne’s sword is unknown, my lord. Ser Arthur Dayne was the last one to wield it, the last Sword of the Morning,” she said dutifully.

“It’s a shame, Ser Arthur was the greatest swordsman I ever had the pleasure to see. He was art with his sword,” the knight said.

“Thank you, my lord. I hope to have inherited half his grace,” Little Ned said. He was aware of the man his uncle had been, but he had been too young when Arthur left, so he didn’t know of his survival.

“May I invite the Queen for a walk? I would love to show her our gardens,” Allyria asked, as gracious as she could be.

“My sister, the Queen has been busy in talks with your lord brother for a while now, my lady. But I’m sure she would love to, once she is free,” Jaime Lannister said warmly. Maybe something about Ally’s eyes reminded him of Arthur, maybe he was just playing a part, but he was gracious and kind to her daughter.

“Thank you, Ser Jaime. Now Ned and I have to go study with our Septa, would the Princes or Princess like to join us in our lesson?” Allyria asked, but neither Tommen nor Myrcella seemed fond of the idea. Maybe it had been Allyria’s intention all along. Prince Joffrey probably accompanied his mother, the obnoxious boy was nowhere to be seen.

“Thank you, Lady Allyria. I would rather not, if you don’t mind.” Princess Myrcella blushed, she had her mother’s beauty but none of her heart, apparently.

“If you need us, call for us.” Allyria said and bowed to them. Ashara and Ned followed and left to the kitchens, instead of their study room.

“Ally?” Ashara looked at her, eyes filled with questions.

“Tell her what you heard, Ned,” Allyria poked her cousin.

“I heard the Queen speak to her son, they are here after our help against the Martells, Auntie. Either we help them, or we die. They’re getting ready for war, I heard Joffrey say it was time to kill the dragon once and for all.” He had worry etched all over his sweet face.

“I just got a letter from Arianne, Mother.” Allyria showed her the piece of paper. “They tried to poison Doran Martell and they have two of the Sand Snakes, the little ones. Oberyn is both furious and helpless.” Her kind face was washed in worry. “But the Dornish stopped the Lannister soldiers disguised as their own from arriving at their land and killed them all. Around a hundred men. Doran says they accused Dorne of building an army against them in favor of Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen. War is coming, mother. And you know Uncle won't stand beside the Lannisters.

“My father would rather die than side with them, Aunt Ashara,” Ned whispered.

 _That is exactly what I fear, little one,_ Ashara thought.

“I’ll go speak to him as soon as the Queen leaves his solar. We’ll think of something to do.” Nervousness was pouring out of her voice.

“Now let’s go to my chambers, it’s further away from where they are, I’d feel better there.” Ashara took the children with her to her room, where she eyed all the stuff she had. She had plain cotton dresses for her role as Septa, though their most trusted and the eldest people at the Dayne household were aware of her identity, having working here from before she was even born. But to most, she was merely Septa Lemore. A Dornish Septa called by Lord Dayne to instruct his sister and son in the Faith of the Seven, which was quite ironic considering how badly Ashara had hated her own Septa and how little faith she had on the New Gods.

Allyria was worried, she could read all of her daughter’s actions and her girl was now scared and probably scheming something to stop the family inhabiting their lands now. _Oh, my child, you lack their wickedness, you have no idea what they are capable of_ , she thought.

Ashara then thought of sweet Rhaenys, her beautiful Martell skin and lovely Valyrian eyes; Elia, the figure of kindness and a good heart; and little Aegon, that she never got to meet for she had already been sent home to Starfall by the time he was born, she was pregnant with Allyria, and the King would never allow a disowned wench to attend court.

How she wished she could have been there, to protect them as fiercely as she had protected and cloaked Lyanna and Aegon. _I hope that all the Gods sent you to the worst of the Seven Hells, the darkest bottom of the deepest hole is where Aerys Targaryen belonged._

But now was not the moment to mourn or damn the dead. Now it was time to worry about the living and she had to think of something to do to make sure her family was okay.

Inside her chambers, Ashara heard a knock and she feared the person on the other side, until she heard Wylla’s voice entering the room after she opened it, carrying a heavy bag.

“M’lady, run. The Lannisters have killed your brother, they are attacking the castle.”

The dreaded words reached her ears but it was her heart that ached.

“Take the children, M’lady. I found him before he died, he said: ‘Ashara, take the children.’ I think he took me for you, Ma’am. Take this food, don’t get anything else, just go, please, M’lady.” She gave her the bag, and Ashara saw Ned and Ally move, opening their secret passage, the one that would lead them to an abandoned hallway so they could reach shore.

“Thank you, my friend. Won’t you come with us?” Ashara’s heart was broken, she did not want anyone else to die for her.

“No, m’lady, I have a duty to Starfall. Please, go. Make sure Lord Ned comes back one day, and rule his seat by right.” She pushed Ashara through the escaping hole on the wall and she put the trunk above it so no one could find them.

“May the Old Gods and the New be with ya, m’lady.” She walked outside Ashara’s room, certain of her death, but rejoicing on the thought of her sacrifice meaning Starfall would be ruled by a Dayne once again one day.

 

“Uncle was brave, Ned. You must be too.” Allyria hugged her cousin tightly. Ashara was devastated, wondering if the letter she had sent Arthur was intercepted, feeling so foolish with even the possibility of being to blame for her big brother’s death. But no, it was not her fault, it was the Lannisters.

They wanted to go where no Targaryen had ever gone. They wanted full control of Westeros, not a fickle one as marriage, but by conquering, as Aegon. However, Dorne would not perish beneath them, they were hot as their sands, strong as their mountains, and if dragons couldn’t break them, a few cats and dears would never.

“Mother?” Allyria touched her cheek, she smiled sadly at her babe. Such a grown beautiful woman now.

“Yes, Sweetling?” she asked.

“Are we going to him?” The moment Allyria asked her, Ashara knew exactly whom she meant.

“Yes, honey. We are, we have nowhere else to go. The Lannisters will probably follow to House Blackmont’s seat next if they’re conquering Dorne, there is no safe place for us there,” Ashara assumed.

“He does not know about me, does he?” Her little voice brought Ashara that old ache when she thought of the life her daughter never had, the father she could never claim.

“No, darling. He does not. You know why, baby. You know why I could never tell him.” She hated herself at these moments, the sadness that washed over Ally’s sweet face, being replaced by a strength Ashara knew wasn’t real.

“You think they will house us there, Aunt Ashara?” Ned asked her, uncertain.

“There’s something you don’t remember, Ned.” She was cautious. “Your Uncle Arthur,” his eyes were wary, “he is alive. He lives at Winterfell. For reasons not mine to tell, duty bounded Arthur to the North. I know my brother would never refuse us.”

“But my father would?” Allyria asked.

“Ned is not cruel, daughter. He is good, kind and he has the warmest heart a Northerner can have.” She wanted to weep, not only had she lost her people, her brother, she would have to face her greatest fear, the ghosts of her past.

“Will his Southern wife think the same?” her smart girl asked.

“Let us get there first, shall we?” She shrugged and hugged herself. They had brought no clothes, only food. A fisherman had the boat near the port of Starfall and now he drove them to White Harbor, their fortune was at all the Gods hands now.

* * *

“Lyanna?” Rhaegar could hardly believe the name on his lips. “But… she… didn’t she…” Rhaegar then connected the dots, Jon was alive, Arthur was alive, Oswell was alive. Good Gods, so was Lyanna. His wife had been alive all these years; he did not know if he wanted to laugh or cry.

“Lady Lyanna is alive, Ser?” Daenerys seemed as shocked as he was.

“She is, Princess. She is alive and hiding in Winterfell. She goes by a different name and such as myself, she’s been protected by a spell, no one can see our real faces unless they know who we really are.” Arthur told them, Rhaegar could not deal with the emotion he felt rising in chest. No, he could not, so he cried. He sat on the bed and he started to cry loudly. He did not see it coming nor could he stop it. The past fifteen, almost sixteen years of his life had been filled with regret, sorrow, and grief. And she had been living in Winterfell all these years, his Queen of Love and Beauty, his Ice.

“Rhae, no.” Daenerys hugged him and he accepted her embrace — he had no strength to deny it, anyway.

Arthur was silent, most likely watching him. He could feel pity oozing from the Kingsguard right now.

“Arthur, can I see her? Can I… Will Lord Stark let me see her?” he asked quietly after calming his chest and mind down. “I know he hates me but I need to see her.” He was no King anymore, he was not even noble, he was just Rhaegar, a broken man. “I need her, Arthur.”

“Oh, my prince. So much has happened all these years you’ve been missing.” Arthur sat next to him in bed, facing him. His friend’s face was the same, except for some wrinkles of his own, and his dark brown hair was slightly touched by grey. Age had come for all of them.

“Lord Stark is not close to his old friend anymore. Robert Baratheon drinks, whores, and drowns the Crown in debts and misery. People at the capital are starting to starve since most of the money is spent at the Red Keep only, and the taxes they have to pay are always on the rise. Lord Stark has not seen the man since the Greyjoy rebelled and they fought together to defeat them. Eddard has never forgotten what Tywin did to your family and how Robert awarded the man for it, instead of taking off his head,” Arthur reported.

“Jaime Lannister is still in the Kingsguard and Roberts humiliates his sister every chance he gets for not being Lyanna,” Arthur said. “The man came once to Winterfell, for a fortnight, time in which Queen Lyanna went to Greywater Watch to hide. Jon stayed behind and I guarded him as Oswell followed with Lyanna. But the drunken fool did not even look at our Prince,” Arthur kept on going. “The whole ordeal was odd, he wanted to patch things up with his friend and probably just leave the throne since the one who really rules right now is Tywin Lannister. Lord Eddard welcomed him as a guest, with all politeness, but Robert left even more distant than he expected: the man impregnated a maid from Wintertown and made a fool out of himself the entire time.”

“So Lord Stark will let Rhae see Lyanna?” His sister bit her lip.

“I think Lyanna would most likely kill him if he doesn’t. But it is dangerous for the two of you to go to Winterfell right now, we have heard rumors of you being alive, Rhaegar. The name Lucerys was quite an alert for me, I remember your fondness for the stories of the Dance of Dragons, Queen Rhaenyra’s child. I know which books you read the most, my prince.” Arthur smiled and Rhaegar did too, for once. He used to spend endless hours at the library in the Red Keep, hours in which Arthur guarded him, sharing with him too.

“You still know me well after all these years, my friend.” Rhaegar nodded. “It’s… I need to talk to Lord Stark.” Rhaegar looked for his clothes, but Arthur stopped him.

“Rhaegar, not now. It is late, but Eddard still talks with his bannermen. I’ll ask him to come here after he is done, okay? Put your bracelets back on and wait for me, I’ll bring Stark here,” Arthur said. Rhaegar nodded, hesitantly.

“Arthur, he is a good kid, is he not? I spoke to him for the longest I could, he was humble and kind.” Arthur knew who Rhaegar was speaking of.

“He is, he has a lot of you, Your Grace. Even the brooding, but he also has a lot of his mother: he rides fast and well, although his greatest passion is his sword. He is fine with it and a quick thinker too. A shy boy, but with a just, kind heart. Even if he was raised as a bastard, he is well loved by most of his siblings and he treats everyone well. Jon is a true prince,” Arthur spoke with a voice heavy in emotion. He had help raise the boy just as much as Lord Stark had. He loved Jon too.

* * *

Daenerys would not say anything, but she filed the information for later — for her dreams, when she met him and their talk continued. She was so close to him now, he was probably a few rooms away. She wanted to take off her bracelet and reveal herself, but she knew she could not. It would not be safe for anyone, but it did not stop her from wanting to.

Rhaegar asked about his wife and all that happened to him, he cried and paced through the room, but all Daenerys could think was _why_.

Why had she dreamed of him? Her brother’s son? No, not just dreamed, she kissed him. She felt a pull to him she had never felt before in her life towards anyone or anything. They had met twice after their kiss and Jon still owed her one question, but they had enjoyed each other’s presence for two other nights. He was becoming more playful by each meeting. Now she feared falling asleep and meeting him again. Would she able to lie to him? Pretend that she did not know him?

“Dany?” Rhaegar called her, pulling her back to reality.

“Yes?”

“Arthur went to fetch Lord Stark,” he informed her.

“I’ll get dressed, then.” She got up and went to find the dress she wore earlier that night. When she did, she saw her lilac dress laying there. Could she wear it tomorrow? To the wedding feast? Would Jon recognize it? She did not know, but she decided she would try.

* * *

“Did you see that girl today?” Robb asked Jon, before bed. Arya was already sleeping in her room, she seemed quite tired from all the practice with Ser Addam.

“The Essosi one?” Jon tried to act as if the girl had not been the one thing in his mind from the moment he first saw her.

“Yes, that one. She was beautiful, you think Father would ever betroth me to an Essosi?” Robb was having the time of his life teasing his brother, who reddened with a jealousy he did not know he possessed.

“No, Robb. I do not believe the heir to Winterfell can marry a foreigner.” Robb wanted to laugh at Jon’s anger.

“Well, I can always try.”

“Well, I think you should not. Respect the lady, brother. She is not some tavern whore you found along the way. Is she not married to the Magister? You cannot marry a married woman.”

“Theon says we can always admire from afar, or a bit closer.” Robb really wanted to laugh, Jon knew him better than to think he would behave like that, but his brother’s behavior was not his usual, the girl seemed to awake a Jon he had never seen, and only in one night. What a shame she was married already.

“Robb!” Jon left his chambers, fuming with anger, not seeing Robb silently laughing at the reaction he got out of his brother.

Robb knew Jon was shy and tried his best to exclude himself from their activities, to be the odd one out. But the lady seemed quite taken with Jon, Robb himself tried getting her attention but she would not look at him twice, her eyes glued to Jon Snow. It was the moment he decided he would get Jon to get out of his shell, to make him actually talk to a pretty and kind lady. Even if he had to force a fight with his brother to do so, she was married but she would show Jon he can have a good girl’s attention.

* * *

“Did you get information on who the man is? Tell me at once, Addam.” Ned was pulled out the meeting between some of his bannermen to join Ser Arthur on another part of the castle, with no explication or warning whatsoever.

“Here, my lord.” Arthur directed him to a distant chamber, which he entered after exchanging a glance with the Kingsguard.

“What is it that you want—“ Eddard Stark cut his words the moment he looked to his right; the man was older, his face taken by grief and sorrow just as so many faces were after the Rebellion. But it was indeed Rhaegar Targaryen. As Lyanna said it would be, his she-wolf sister with her wolf dreams. The blood of the First Men did run through their veins, maybe the Gods deemed her worthy of visions only she seemed to have.

“My lord,” Rhaegar whispered, he seemed lost in words, as if he knew not what to say.

“I thought you dead. We all thought you dead.” Ned did not know what to say either.

“I thought myself dead too, Lord Stark, until I woke with my chest wounded but with life breathing in and out me,” Rhaegar said. “I looked for Lyanna at the Tower of Joy”, he whispered her name, as if it was too holy to be said in vain, “but I found only more grief and pain, on the form of rumors and gravestones.” Rhaegar seemed to be lost in time, during his tale. “I was close to end it all, when I heard of my mother and sister. Daenerys.” He pointed to his side, and there she was, a beautiful girl, with her silver hair and lilac eyes, she wore a white dress, the one he saw her wearing at the feast, when she had a different hair and a different face.

“Princess.” Ned bowed to her, not yet to Rhaegar. The girl gave him a lovely smile and bowed back.

“My lord.” She seemed shy, the perfect image of her queen mother.

“Daenerys and Mother survived, but Viserys did not. So I went to the only place I knew, the temple of the Red God in Volantis. It was where we got our glamors, to hide our true appearance.” _Oh, so that was how. The Old Gods hold so such trick, we had to find another way._ Ned thought of the way he hid his family and friends too.

“We have lived with the money we were left by Ser Willem Darry and by my work as a merchant. Little by little, I had enough money to give my family a home. Until Tywin Lannister took it all when he murdered the sweetest woman alive.” The Prince’s voice turned to anger, sadness, the way himself felt when he thought of the losses of Brandon and father.

“Why are you back, Rhaegar?” That was the question Ned wanted to ask him all along.

“I dreamt of him. I saw Jon in my dreams. I saw a woman talking to him, a maid, perhaps. He has my nose and my hair, even if the color is _hers.”_ Ned was astonished, not only had Lyanna dreamt of Rhaegar, the man had dreamt of her and Jon.

“A maid?” he asked the man.

“Lyanna,” Arthur spoke after a long silence.

“What do you want from me?” Ned was not angry at the man, he knew Rhaegar wed Lyanna, but she made her choice, she went willingly, because himself and father would not listen to her cries of not marrying the man Lyanna seemed to know from the beginning that Robert would become.

It was not logical, but sometimes Ned hated himself the most. If Brandon was alive, he would know exactly what to do…

“I just want to see him, I want to see her.” The Prince approached him, his begging eyes and Ned could not fault the man from wanting to see the woman he loved. There was no one he could plead to see Ashara, she was far out of his reach.

“The reason I was in talks with my bannermen concerns everyone here,” Ned said, turning to Arthur as well.

“Tywin Lannister tried to invade Dorne, he acts on Robert’s behalf, although I do not think Robert cruel enough to demand someone’s death, but he cares little about what happens around him. Tywin has tried to murder Doran Martell and he has captured two of Oberyn Martell’s daughters.” He saw the anger on the Prince’s face at the mention of such names.

“They were headed to Starfall, Arthur. Do your sister and nephew not live there with your brother?” Ned asked him, but the man went blank.

“Starfall holds more than it shows, my lord,” Arthur said, but Ned did not think much of it.

“Tywin Lannister had my family murdered, he had Elia tortured, raped, and killed. He had my little girl stabbed to death in front of her mother and our little son’s skull crushed in front of her as well. He is not a man, he is a beast from the Seventh Hell. He deserves torture, punishment, fire and blood.” Rhaegar was furious, but his sister went to his side and she held his hand, she was trying to calm him down.

“The fact is, as I suspected, time for peace is gone. Winter comes and brings war along with it.” Ned’s voice was tired, sad.

The girl still held her brother’s arm, as Sansa did with him sometimes.

“Will you grant us passage, Lord Stark?” Her voice was stronger than a girl’s voice was meant to be. He was half impressed, half sure Arya would love her. So would Lyanna.

“Winterfell will be dangerous. For all of us, especially now.” He had to warn them.

“Living is dangerous, Lord Stark. Anywhere we go is dangerous nowadays.” Rhaegar finally rejoined them, his voice still muffled with grief.

“Well then, we leave two days after the wedding. The Northern lords are worried and they demand my attention.” Ned said.

“Thank you, Lord Stark.” Rhaegar looked nothing like the Prince he saw at Harrenhall, he was a shell of himself, with a single gleam of hope taking over his eyes.

“Do not thank me, this is for Lyanna and Jon.”

* * *

 Lyanna was trying to find something to do, anything that gave her a way out of Catelyn’s path. The woman had been pestering her from the day they received Ned’s letter informing them of Arya’s whereabouts.

Apparently, Lyanna had been the one to blame for Arya’s mischief. She gave her “ideas”, ugh. Her niece was much like herself, she sought adventure and she loved living life to the fullest, in the best way a child her age can. But Lyanna had never told the girl to go seek it herself in secret, even if she had done the same once.

Catelyn tried to make a Sansa out of her, it was almost as if Lyanna was seeing her father force her to marry Robert Baratheon all over again. She knew he had loved her, but he had always expect her to be something she was not, just as Catelyn expected from Arya.

The mother doted on her child — even with all their disagreements, Catelyn Stark loved her all of her children. But it was easy to see that the mother expected much more from the child than she could offer, at least as far as her expectations went.

Arya loved swordplay, which both Arthur and Oswell had been teaching her in private. Also, Arya loved learning languages: the little girl was learning High Valyrian, after her mother forbade her from learning Dothraki. Ghiscari was next, according to her.

Arya had a beautiful heart, and a wild one at that. Sometimes she even reminded Lyanna of Brandon, how he would face every adventure with joy and mischief. The world was a playground for Brandon Stark to play in.

How she missed him, how she hated herself for what had happened to him and to her own father.  Before she could reminisce on her past, Catelyn found her at the Godswood, probably to continue her rants.

“What is that you want, Catelyn? I told you I never told Arya to do—“ Lyanna was saying when Catelyn showed her a letter, with the clear Dayne sigil marked in purple wax.

“What—“ She did not know what to say, other than getting the letter and throwing her goodsister a curious look.

“Maester Luwin received it this morning from a hawk. The hawk had a “to Lyanna Stark’s eyes only” note written, so whoever sent this knows you are alive.” Her voice was both angry and worried. “Who did you tell, Lady Lyanna? My family is in great danger for keeping your secret. I will always protect my family and this secret can find the same ending the Crown Prince’s did and I will not let it.”

“Your family is my family too, my lady. Before you got to wear your Stark name, I carried it in my veins.” Lyanna was angry, how dare she! “There is nothing I would not do to protect this family and I can assure you that I have never told a single soul about me. If you mistrust Maester Luwin or Old Nan, maybe, but other than them, the secret is ours to keep.”

Not only had Catelyn  questioned Lyanna’s commitment to her family, she had thrown Rhaegar’s family tragedy at her face, she felt guilty enough in her chambers under the shadows of her nightmares and pain.

“Family, Duty, Honor, Lyanna,” Catelyn repeated her proud family words. “I will do whatever it takes to protect my family.”

“Then you should remember whose sister I am,” Lyanna said angrily, leaving her presence with her letter and her scared and angry heart.

  

Lyanna sat in her chambers and stared at the letter. There were only a handful of people who knew about her being alive, about Jon, and all of her secrets. Arthur, Oswell, Ashara… No, but Ashara had gone mad after losing her baby, she had thrown herself at sea. Her heart was broken and she dived into the arms of the Gods. Had she not?

Why would Arthur lie to them about her death if she had not been actually dead? But everyone considered Lyanna dead, and here she was, scared of opening a letter addressed to her sent from across the Realm, who knows if a threat or a treat.

She opened the letter and read its first lines, before she felt the tears fill her eyes.

Lyanna hid herself in Winterfell, cloaked by a spell and masked with a name she did not own to protect her boy, her sweet child. Lyanna had just never considered Ashara could have done the same.

Ashara. Allyria. Oh, Ned. What would be of his heart once he found out the truth? Her brother had been one of the most cursed by the Rebellion. The Rebellion she and her star-crossed love caused.

 _“It was not you, Lya. It was Aerys. He is the one with blood on his hands, whichever one of his seven hells he’s at,”_ Ned always told her. Her sweet, caring brother, the dutiful one. Ned had always been honorable and reliable.

The one time she remembered him being careless and lost in love had been at Harrenhall, one of the evenings she had met with Rhaegar and with Elia for the first time, kind and spirited Elia.

Ned did not sleep at his room that evening, he had been leaving his tent when she was getting to hers, he held a purple flower, and he seemed childishly happy.

She read all her letter, weeping at some pieces, laughing at others. How different her life could have been if Brandon had married Catelyn and Ned, Ashara. But then she read it, the warning, the cry for help, and she knew war was coming to the realm once again.

Lyanna just could not stop herself from thinking “What side will House Stark support this time? Will the Wolf battle the Stag now? Or would the Wolf side with the Sun, who knows who else more, fighting any Lion or Stag coming their way?

She held the letter to her chest and hoped her brother would return soon, but at the same time, she feared his arrival: what she would have to say, if she could even say it at all. She feared the future and you can’t frighten a wild thing, but you could hurt its heart.

* * *

“Hi” Daenerys saw him enter the stone chamber.

“Hi” Jon smiled at her, leaning in to kiss her cheek, the closest to her mouth that he possibly could without actually kissing her.

“How was your day?” she asked him. It was their dream, but deep inside she knew this was real, this was not a dream, it was a meeting… of souls, mayhap. Knowing who he was and not telling him all the secrets she hid killed her, but she was too selfish to give him up.

“It was good, I am at a wedding, my father was invited and I came along. I had not left home in years, it is good to see a bit more of the world.” He smiled at her.

“Well, I have seen too much, sometimes I wish there was a place I could settle down at. To call home.” She sighed. “There was a house once, with yellow walls and a large red door. I haven’t found home ever since.” She missed her gardens and her mother’s embrace and laughter as she had back then.

“Walls and fields are not always a home, you know,” he said thoughtfully. “I have walls, fields and stones to call home. But it does not feel like it most of the time.”

“Why is that?” She hated to see him like this… sad. His smile was so beautiful, he should smile more.

“I am a bastard. My father sired me and my mother, who was not his wife, abandoned him. People are not usually too kind to those who were born out of sin, according to my father’s wife.” His face hardened.

“Do your brothers and sisters treat you differently? Do they seem happier with each other than whenever you are around?” She really hoped not. She hoped somehow, Jon had received the love she just knew he deserved.

“Not all of them. My brother Robb is my best friend, when he’s not lusting—” he stopped himself from saying it, just following his thought—, “as is my little sister, she is the one who knows me the most, she knows me just as much as Ayla, the House’s handmaiden. She is incredible. This room is hers, somehow.” He frowned. It was hard for them to understand the concept of their meetings. They slept and then found themselves in each other’s presence. It was hardly logical, it made no sense, but still, night after night, here they were. Not that he would complain, he loved nothing more than closing his eyes and seeing his girl.

 _His girl,_ he laughed inside his mind. As if he had the right to call her that, she was too good for him, she would always be only in his dreams.

“And then there are my younger siblings, Bran is the sweetest kid, while Rickon is too small to understand the concept of a bastard, but he seems to love to ride my back across Winterfell.” He laughed with the memories. “My sister Sansa is the most distant one, she follows her mother’s faith, and with it comes the concepts of a bastard, she is not unkind, she just avoids referring to me, or just looking at me at all. She is not mean, Sansa is a good girl, she just…” He wanted to defend his sister, she did nothing but act as she saw her lady mother do.

“She’s just a child. Is she not?” His friend smiled sadly at him.

“Yes, she is only 13.” He said.

“I am approaching my fourteenth name day.” She finally gave away some information on herself.

“Will you ever tell me your name?” He grinned at her, he doubted she would say but he expected so anyway.

“You know what, I will…” She bit her lip. “My name is Dany.” She smiled at him.

“That is not a name is it, it’s short for what?” He asked her.

“Would you not like to know?” She was up now, looking for him from her back. She never looked more beautiful, he thought.

“I guess Dany will have to do for now.” He shrugged.

“So how is the trip? Did you meet any new people?” She asked him after sitting at the head of the bed, while he sat on the middle of it, her bare feet touching his thigh.

“Yes. I did.” He seemed nervous, almost… guilty? Was he attracted to hidden Daenerys and he was feeling guilty about it? She wanted to half laugh, half cry. She just wanted to tell him everything. But she would not ruin this for Rhaegar, he had the right to be the one to come clean with him.

“Any beautiful ladies trying to have a dance with my brooding friend?” she asked him, twirling a curl of her hair.

“Why, are you jealous?” He sat straight to her, she felt little dragons in her stomach by how close he was to her, even if in truth he was a bit far.

“You wish, Jon.” She rolled her eyes and he smirked. He had such a beautiful smile.

“Two, actually. I was even asked by one, it was nice.” He smiled, thinking of the mysterious Essosi girl, to think of one, being with the other felt just so wrong.

“I did not take you for a dancer,” she teased him, ignoring the pinch in her stomach with the thought of Jon dancing with anyone else.

“I am not much of one. One of the girls I danced with, she is the wife of an Essosi Magister that arrived today, I fear for her feet.” He genuinely laughed, not seeing the girl was actually touching her own feet, remembering him stepping on them a few times.

“Are you not quite the ladies’ man? I guess a beautiful Northerner and then an exotic Essosi? Are you meeting anyone else in your dreams?” she teased him, only half.

“You are the only girl I dream about,” she was smiling but he was not, he spoke as if he wanted her to know how much he meant it. How real she felt to him, even in the impossibility of their dreams.

“You have one question remaining, Jon. You get to ask one more thing.” Their eyes had not left each other.

“Can I kiss you?” It was his time to ask, she bit her lip but reached him. She knew in the back of her mind she was probably overstepping her boundaries but she wanted to do it. She sat on his lap, feeling him half-aware of her presence, and she looked up at him. He was taller than her, but somehow he fit her just fine. He held her waist and grabbed her by the back of her neck, kissing her softly. Their mouths touching only for a little while, until she licked his lip and he gave her the entrance.

Their lips were languid, their touches possessively and rushed, so the speed of their kiss increased and soon enough they were both panting while she felt herself thrusting her hips against him, she had never felt this way before, it was too… She did not know if she could handle the warmth invading her center, invading her insides, and traveling through her entire body.

It was Jon who broke the kiss apart and she rested her head on his chest, both taking deep breaths trying to find air. She chuckled and he touched her soft hair.

“Why does this feel so real?” he murmured to her.

“Somehow, I think is.” She answered him.

She looked up at him, lost in the grey of his eyes for a moment. She passed her fingers through his hair, he just closed his eyes and leaned into her hand.

“Do we have to wake up?” he whispered.

“I really do not want to.” They rested in each other’s arms, somehow, it felt like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So??? What did you guys think?  
> We will get to read Ashara's letter at some point, I promise! LOL  
> But we're heading the explosion of all these secrets and emotions, things are about to go down pretty soon!  
> Thanks for all your love, your comments and kudos give me life.  
> You guys have no idea the difference it makes in a writer's work, but remember to always be kind, ok?  
> Thanks again for all the love and support, can't wait to read all your opinions on this chapter and what is coming :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Jon and Daenerys learn more of each other, Ned finds that there is much he does not know.  
> Tywin plays his move, as fire and ice collide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii guys!  
> I know it's been forever and I owe you guys this update for the longest time now, but I find myself with a real bad injury in my arm and I can barely use it. I'm already working on getting better, having the right treatment for it, but it means that I'm not really able to write. I managed to "write" this chapter through dictation. It is suuuuper weird, but so worth it. This story has become so important to me I just missed it immensely. 
> 
> For that reason and that alone, I wasn't able to answer everyone as I ALWAYS DO. I will answer everyone, I PROMISE. As soon as I'm doing a bit better, I hope it won't be long. But don't let it stop you guys from commenting this chapter and let me know your thoughts on it, it means more to me than you guys know. This was meant to be a one-shot and it only came this far with your support and love. Thank you guys immensely for it. 
> 
> This chapter was once again beta'd by my girl [LustOnMyFingers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LustOnMyFingers/pseuds/LustOnMyFingers)! <3 I also need to thank [Fairytalelovr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalelovr/pseuds/fairytalelovr) and [Lilgulie5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilgulie5/pseuds/lilgulie5) for not letting me drown in my angst with what's happening, you girls have been my rock.

“Why, Jon, aren’t you well dressed tonight? Is this for a certain exotic lady, I presume?” Robb tapped his brother’s shoulder, that gave him a nasty look.

“Shut up!” He answered Robb, ignoring the guilt he felt for being so anxious to meet someone other than Dany.

“She is married, you know? You should not be playing with fire.” He told him, eating a grape.

“I am not dressing up for anyone, Robb, I am dressing for the wedding. I have no intention to court a married woman, you should know me better than that.” He said, annoyed.

“Well, she surely looked as if she only had eyes for you so I guess she does not take her vows as seriously as you seem to.” Robb shrugged.

“Were you really watching us the whole time?” Jon laughed. “I thought Lady Wylla was keeping you entertained.” Jon was the one to grin now.

“Dad says Lord Manderly wishes for us to marry.” Robb looked at the distance now. “But I do know if we will. I heard father mentioning making alliances with southern houses, winter is coming.”

“I am sure whoever father chooses will make you happy, brother. You have a way with the ladies and I doubt father would willingly give you a bride that you could not love.”

“Thanks, Jon.”

“So, about that…”

“Oh, shut up!”

He would not tell his brother, but he was indeed dressing up to feel a bit less plain in his appearance, he would never chase a wed woman, but it he liked the idea of for once, getting someone’s attention. Ayla always told him he was a handsome one, but he knew better, Robb was the charmer, the better brother. He was just…Jon.

They left their chambers, heading up to meet up with father and walking to White Harbor’s Godswood. The Manderlys followed the Seven, but in respect of their Warden and belonging to the North, the couple would wed in both religions. This morning, they had wed at the Sept, Aly was beautiful in a red dress. Aly was the Essosi lady that fought Dany for his thoughts. He felt foolish but he could not help but wonder how she would look like tonight.

He and Robb approached their fathers chambers when they heard voices coming from the inside.

“Lyanna was not just the fulfillment of a prophecy. She was everything, Lord Stark. She was the love I never dreamt I was worthy of. That a damned man could ever have. Elia knew it, and she did condone it, she had the kindest of hearts and she wanted me to be happy as well.” The grieving voice said.

 _Lyanna? Elia? Were they talking about the Rebellion? As far as Jon knew, there were only two men in love with Lady Lyanna enough to share those words, Robert Baratheon and Rhaegar Targaryen. But Rhaegar had kidnapped and raped his aunt, had he not? Rhaegar Targaryen was dead, was he not?_  

“Father?” Robb knocked on the door after their exchanged glances. They could heard mumbles and then three men left Lord Stark’s chambers, the Magíster, Addam and their father.

The man eyed him weirdly, as if he was memorizing every piece of his face. It was unsettling and he soon turned to eye Addam. Magíster Lucerys left the room, walking down the hall off to his chambers.

“The wedding should be starting at any time now, father. They don’t have a proper weirwood tree but they do have a Godswood.” Robb told Ned.

“Let’s go, we shouldn’t be late.” Ned took his cloak and put it on himself, walking towards the same hall, heading to the Godswood.

“Did you hear all that weird talk?” Robb asked him while they waited for other guests to arrive.

“Yes—“ Jon was just starting to answer his brother when he saw her. She was beautiful in a dress, a most interesting dress, because he knew it. Oh, he knew it well.

The girl was wearing Dany’s dress, he remembered it quite well, he held on to some of it’s embroidery while he kissed her the night before. _Was he delusional? What the hell is going on here?_

Her husband accompanied her, her arm entangled in his. She smiled at him, and he felt his cheeks warm. He avoided smiling back, it would not be proper, but his mind was confused and his heart beating wildly. 

* * *

Daenerys wanted to tell him who she was, she wanted to tell him she was not Aly, but Dany, the girl he saw for the past few days in his dreams. The lips which he kissed night after night from the moment their dreams bounded, they were hers. But she knew she could not. Not now.

Somehow, in the back of her mind, she felt as if wearing that dress would be saying something. She knew he had noticed her dress in their dreams, he touched the roses embroidery when their tongues sent a chill through his spine.

Arriving at the Godswood with Rhaegar, she smiled at him, hating how he did not smile back. _He thinks you are a married woman, silly._ She wanted to go to him, if only to greet him, but a northern beauty arrived at his side. She had beautiful long brown hair and she looked gracious in a simple dress. The girl barely paid any mind to Jon’s brother, giving him her full attention. Dany’s heart ached at the sight, two beautiful northerners, quite a pair they seemed.

She turned to stand by Rhaegar’s side, it would seem rather suspicious for Lord Stark to be seen with the “Magíster” day and night. She stood and watched the whole short ceremony, they had been bound by the Septon earlier in the day, but now they belong in the eyes of the Old and the New Gods. She wondered what it felt like to belong to someone, she did not know if Lord Greatjon and Lady Wynafryd shared any love for one another, although they hardly seemed unhappy with the union. But to belong to someone in heart and soul, as Rhaegar had belong to Lyanna, he carried her anywhere he went, in dreams, words and thoughts.

A harmful thought crossed her mind: was it any different than her and Jon? He seemed to be anywhere she was too. She had not had the courage to tell Rhaegar of her dreams, or how important his son had become to her in such a brief time. She half feared disappointing him as she feared the impropriety of it all. They were Targaryens, but what did that even mean?

The couple were now on their knees, asking the Gods for their blessings. She looked at Jon briefly, flushing at meeting his gaze. She felt a warmth take over her chest. The girl was no longer at his side, somehow it gave her an unsettling joy.

“Hey.” She heard Rhaegar said, taking her hand.

“Oh, hi.” She blushed after being caught.

“Did you get to know him well?” He murmured in her ear. _Oh, brother. You do not know how well, I can say I know every muscle in his slim yet muscular arms._

“Not too well, but well enough to like him a lot, Rhae. He is a good one.” She murmured back at him.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” He asked the question she feared. Rhaegar could read her emotions as easily as she could read his.

“Why? Does it look like I’m hiding something?” She played it coy.

“Yes, it does.” He chuckled quietly, what a rare occurrence. She smiled.

“We are acquainted with each other.” She murmured, everyone now seemed to leave the place and she noticed the ceremony was over.

“What do you mean.” He only looked confused.

“I…Can we talk about this later tonight? I don’t feel comfortable talking about it now.” She did not want that conversation right now. She was not even sure what her dreams were to actually put it into words to say it to someone else.

“Of course, we should get going.” He squeezed her hand and they left the Godswood, she could feel Jon’s gaze at every step. 

* * *

“Is Doran Martell dead? I WANT HIM DEAD.” Robert shouted at the small council’s room. After what Tywin had said, it was hard to imagine him reacting differently.

Jon Arryn was dead, Doran Martell conspired against him with that cunt Viserys and the Tyrells plotted against him. He was surrounded by treacherous cunts and they had to be punished.

“ _My King, a most upsetting news. Lord Arryn was found dead in his chambers. He was on the floor, choked in his own bile. He seems to have been poisoned.” A guard told him after he dismissed the whore from his bed._

_“What?” Robert was not a King then, he was Rob, growing up at the Vale, learning from the old man who had been a father to him, alongside Ned, his best friend and brother who loathed him after the dragonspawn had been killed. He missed those days, no crowns on his head, no weight on his mind._

_A lot of moments passed by his memory, his lord father teaching him how to ride his first horse…Renly’s birth. Leaving for the Vale, meeting Ned. Adventuring through the place with his friend, fucking girls, getting drunk, until that damned Tourney._

_Lyanna had been constantly in Ned’s lips. He loved his sister and he gushed about her frequently. It was hard not to love her from the moment he heard of a bold, fierce girl with no stupidity as most girls did, and he would get to be Ned’s brother now. He would wed his beautiful sister and she would bare him children and he would rule Storm’s End and they would travel North every now and then to see Ned, mayhap Ned would marry someone closer and even stay closer to him. But no, Rhaegar Targaryen fucked it all with a crown and his dragon dick._

_He chased his lady, took her from him and now, even in death, he won, he had her, while Robert was left with golden cunt Cersei, her coldness and poisonous beauty. She was said to be the prettiest of women but she had nothing on Lyanna. Where Lyanna had been fierce, Cersei was spoiled. Where Lyanna had been bold, Cersei had been treacherous. She was the complete opposite of all he wanted, but in the end, she was all he got._

_Her. And all the whores he fucked to forget the loss of a friend, the win of a crown and the bitterness it all left on his mouth._

_Now Jon had died, what else was left? A friend he had not spoken to in years, a good father he did not trust as his Hand, another Lannister cunt at his Kingsguard. Robert hardly felt like a King, although he had not given up the crown only because of the thought of Joffrey and Cersei ruling it in his stead._

_Surrounded by Lannisters, betrayed in favor of Targaryens, and apart from any Stark for years now._

“He is not, My King.” Tywin said. “His Maester saved him but we were told our men kidnapped his nieces and they might swap them for at least Oberyn Martell. The man is reckless and stupid, he seeks revenge more than he sees reason. We have taken over a hundred of merchant ships and filled them with Lannister soldiers to infiltrate in Dorne. We have at least one spy at every harbor and each one of them works in our favors. We have taken Lemonwood, Saltshore and Starfall. We are working on the other houses. We have Sunspear surrounded so we should pass through their defenses soon enough, we have a golden surprise coming their way.” The man had a sharp mind, he hated to admit, but the thought of getting revenge on the house that plotted to bring back a Targaryen to power? Viserys Targaryen would meet his father sooner rather than later, before setting foot in the Red Keep ever again.

“The Targaryens had dragons and they never managed to take over Dorne.” Varys said, almost forgotten by the King’s side. The man was almost a shadow, silent and always there.

“The Targaryens never had the cunning to do so. They thought their dragons were enough to win wars but even Rhaenys Targaryen perished. We are smarter and we are in no hurry, little by little, it will be all ours, My King.” The Lord of Lannister said.

“His, surely you mean, My Lord. It will be all his, not ours.” Lord Varys commented, thriving in the gaze he got from the Old Lion.

“Our armies, all in service and devotion to King Robert, Lord Varys.” Tywin made himself clear.

“I’m sure.” Lord Varys bowed and Robert ignored it all, focusing on the idea of managing a victory no Targaryen ever had for more than a fortnight. Daeron Targaryen conquered Dorne for the briefest of periods and at the cost of the blood of many of his men. _How many would die this time?_

Ser Barristan had been quiet throughout the entirety of the council, only expressing his sorrow for the death of Jon. Littlefinger wrote notes in his papers, as if he heard nothing, but somehow it was clear he did. Nothing passed through him. Renly got on his feet, he had been uncomfortable from the moment Lord Tywin affirmed his reliable and noble sources had whispered to him tales of the Tyrells bethroting their golden flower to the Velaryon heir, the Velaryons now answered to Storm’s End but if a Targaryen restoration were to take place, it was hard to tell which side they would take.

“If you allow me, My King. I have received whispers of the North as well, of your old friend looking for a southern bride.” Littlefinger said.

“I thought whispers were my job, Lord Baelish, and not yours.” Varys commented.

“It seems you are not doing your fucking job then, aren’t you Varys?” Robert roared. He knew they were no longer the friends they had been one day, but Ned Stark would never turn his back on him and he would never betray him. He was not the sort of man.

“Lord Stark is the least of our worries, My King.” Varys said. “He is a loyal and honorable man.”

“We all are until we need to make difficult choices.” Renly said.

“I will not discuss this, I am King and my word is law, Ned is no traitor.” Robert roared.

“Neither are the Tyrells, brother. My squire is one of the Tyrells children and he is nothing but loyal.” Renly insisted.

“Oh, I’m sure he is.” Petyr Baelish grinned.

“What are you— “Renly was about to yell at the man when Robert interrupted him.

“Shut your mouth, Baelish. And you sit, Renly. I might be your brother but I am still your King. You should keep that in mind.” He gazed at his brother quite seriously. He was sober for a few hours now and that only made him impatient.

“My King, if I may…” Ser Barristan finally said, and all looked at the white haired man. “Such accusations are quite serious, they should all be looked into seriously before any bloodshed.”

“Bloodshed has already happened, Ser Barristan.” Lord Tywin said. “And blood would be shed just the same if he did nothing and left Doran Martell to marry his daughter to Viserys, and his son to the girl. They would not hold their breaths before attacking everyone on their way up here. Rumor has it that the Mad King’s son took after his brother and he is a fine swordsman— “

“If he is anything like his brother then I can defeat him just as easily.” Robert said harshly.

“Do it, Lord Tywin. Give me Dorne, your grandchildren will rule over it all one day.” He said and left the room, with memories of the Trident traveling through his mind, and dreams of what he lost and what he never had. 

* * *

“You have to be careful with Varys, Lord Tywin. He seems keen in dismiss your words, for some reason the eunuch wants to undermine you.” Petyr Baelish affirmed at his brothel, to the Lord of Lannister.

“Varys has his own agenda; I am sure we will find out in time.” Tywin affirmed, and sat at the table. “He is not an easy one to read, but I thank you for the letter you intercepted. I was able to make some modifications to it in a way that no one could notice. The calligrapher I hired was good enough to make the same handwriting and Doran’s words sound even more treacherous now.” Tywin smiled, he trusted Baelish as far as he could throw him, but the man only had to gain in helping him. A gift the man wanted more than the money he owned and the title he aimed.

“Viserys and the princess had not been seen in quite some time, they simply disappeared after Rhaella Targaryen’s death.” Baelish informed him.

“I don’t care about a mad boy with some swords skills and a pretty girl with no power, armies, dragons or strength.” Tywin dismissed the information.

“It is the Tyrell we most focus, and the Dornish we must conquer.” The Old Lion said, “Lady Olenna hoped to dethrone my daughter and wed her little whore to the King, I will not allow it.”

“The Dornish will be hard to deal with, we’ve taken smaller houses, but it seems that most of the Dornish have disappeared from their castle, the takeover was not as glamourous as it was said to be, My Lord.” Lord Baelish said.

“Are we Rhaenys Targaryen now, Lord Baelish? No, we shall seek them and kill them. We will not have a deserted land in our hands. We want their people not their sandy castles.” Tywin was furious, none of his captains informed him of the disappearance of the Dornish.

“The only place we seemed to take over with its people was Starfall, My Lord. It was not as well guarded as it used to be, their Lord was sickly and the heir is a twelve name days’ boy.” Baelish said. “Your daughter and grandchildren went there with the excuse of the little Dayne girl’s birthday, but Ser Jaime and Ser Meryn Trant is guarding them from any possible attacks.”

“Cersei should have known better than to bring the children into a warzone.” Tywin would never stop being surprise at his daughter’s stupidities.

“The Prince wanted to go and he demanded his brother and sister went along with him.” That should not be news, Joffrey was always a spoiled brat. How would he rule Westeros when Robert was dealt with, when the child was such a brat? He would have to show him a proper education, time would come when the boy would have to learn of his place. Or he would have to train another King. 

* * *

She missed her boy, Jon had been gone for a few weeks now and she missed his kind smiles and witty questions. Having to be stuck at Winterfell with Catelyn surrounding her and annoying her to no end having to pretend to be the compliant maid? Lyanna was going insane.

She did spend some time with Bran and Rickon, the boys were happy children with high spirits who loved to ride, although Rickon still rode in her lap, and Bran, a little boy of eight but so full of energy, rode along in his pony. They ventured themselves around the Wolfswood, never entering, she knew she would hear a mouthful from Catelyn if they did.

Sansa liked to keep it to the castle, she spent her time sowing and giggling around with her friend Jeyne Poole. Lyanna loved Sansa with all her heart, she was a good girl, with a good heart and such a little lady from an early age. Her mother made sure Sansa followed the Seven, and if there was any of the Starklings that could belong down South, it was little Sansa. But Lyanna feared for her niece.

How naïve she was, how she saw the world full of knights and ladies, weddings and songs. It was all beautiful and pure for her. How could Lyanna show her the world as it was? She was not her mother, but she hated to imagine Sansa making all the wrong choices for the lack of a raw view of the world.

Ned would never break Sansa’s heart by dismissing her songs and tales with reality, but sometimes Lyanna wish he would. Tales of Prince Joffrey and his golden hair and green eyes surrounded the Realm, and the girl wanted nothing but to meet him, to be able to charm him and find love in his arms.

_Oh, child. I hope that life treats you kind and you never have to learn what the world is really made of._

Lyanna took it to her rooms after making sure Rickon was asleep. But she was restless. She had been dreaming of Rhaegar again, the same older yet so handsome husband of hers. He was somewhere cold, he dressed in furs and he rode a horse, in her deepest thoughts, he was riding to her. He was riding to find her, but then she would wake up and return to the reality of the castle’s stone walls and wet fields. Winter is coming but the snow was already here.

So she only thing she could, she went down to the crypts, to pray for her family, to sit between her brother and father and speak to them as if she expected an answer from them. After talking for hours, she would go even down further. To a place no one ever goes, right before the stairs to the drowned floor, where she hid her wedding cloak, one white and silver, the other, black and red. With it, their letters, Jon’s birth blanket, her necklace, the Ruby pendant in a shape of the Targaryen sigil, and Rhaegar’s harp.

She held on to her things for a while, as if being around them took her back some years, when he was still sleeping beside her and Jon was warm and safe inside her belly. The tears would come easily, but she found solace in his harp. She did not know how to play it well, knowing only a few notes, but even so, just by holding it, it felt as if she was holding him.

She did not go back to bed that night, she was surrounded by sleep, to find him once again in dreams, but this time, she walked into a tent she knew he was at, and they kissed. In her sleep, she felt awake and alive. 

* * *

“Surely you have a dance to spare to a friend?” Daenerys saw Jon sitting near his brother and she approached him quietly, startling him.

“I’m sorry, Alys. I did not want to bother you, I imagined your husband would not like to see you dancing with someone else.” Jon seemed uncomfortable saying the words.

“We have been talking so much, you decided to become shy now?” She smiled at him. She could see him staring at her dress.

“I’m sorry if I have been improper.” He excused himself.

“You have not.” She wanted to so much to tell him who she really was. “But you have been neglecting a Lady, My Lord. I did ask you to dance.” She smiled at him.

“I am not a Lord—“ Jon was saying when Robb got up from his chair.

“If my brother won’t, I can always—“ Robb was smiling at Daenerys then, when Jon got up on his feet.

“Shall we?” He offered her his hand, and she took it, she held back a laugh, Jon was not only good and kind, he was also jealous. She tried to ignore what the thought did to the pit of her stomach.

They headed to the middle of the Hall, where people could be seen dancing to               ‘Brave Danny Flint’.

“I have never heard this song before.” She commented, while feeling her hand tingling to his touch.

“It’s Brave Danny Flint.” He said.

“Is there a story behind it? I have spent way too many years in Essos, My Lord. I’m not exactly a great connoisseur of the North.” She teased.

“It is the story of a woman who fled her home to join the Night’s Watch because she wanted to and she ignored the fact that the order is for men only, so she dressed up as a man and joined them.” He whispered to her.

“So?”

“It gets gruesome.” He warned.

“I asked, did I not?” She bit her lip, but he could not see her, his face was against her hair, tingling her cheek and neck.

“She was discovered, raped and murdered. They say she haunts the Nightfort, where it all happened, ever since.” She could hear his heavy heart through the tale, _what an awful fate for a such a brave young woman_ , Dany thought.

“A sad song for a sad story.” Daenerys commented quietly.

“I did say it was gruesome.” He shrugged.

“I understand though.” Daenerys said, intriguing him.

“What, may I ask?” Jon seemed interested in what she had to say.

“To turn into someone else to do what you want. To feel safe.” She whispered.

“Have you ever done it, then?” He asked her, her hand against his feeling the heat in his hand.

“If I had, how would you know?” She teased him, enjoying his expression. He was thinking deeply, dancing around the hall with her, stepping on her feet every now and then.

“You look nothing like someone I know, yet you sound exactly as someone I know. You even…” He seemed afraid to complete his sentence.

“I even what?” She was starting to get nervous. Was she giving him too much? Was she that close to tell him the truth? Did she, somewhere inside her, want him to know?

“You have the same dress as she does.” He answered quietly.

“Who is she?” She asked him, they were still dancing now to another song.

“Her name is Dany. She is…” He grumbled something she could not understand. “…she is someone very dear to me.”

“You just came from Essos.” He affirmed, having stopped the dance and looking at her dumbfounded, as if he had come to a conclusion.

“Yes?” She really wanted him to know.

“How?” He starred at her face, and then her hair and dress.

“Jon, people are starting to stare.” She warned him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, your husband…” He was saying when she shook her head.

“He’s not my husband. I’m sorry to let you think he was. The truth is just…complicated.” She was afraid of his reaction but he only grew a smile.

He took her by the hand and pushed her aside to sit by him at the table.

“Who is he?” Jon was somewhere between a sweet smile and a confused frown.

“He is my brother.” She let her head down.

“He practically raised me.” She smiled, looking at the man across the room sitting by Lord Manderly and Lord Stark.

“Why did you not say something?” He was a bit disappointed, she could see.

“I can’t say much, Jon. Not yet.” She answered with a heavy heart.

“We are to part ways tomorrow, how can I ever know, then?” He was frustrated, he really wanted to see her, she could see, and it made her melt inside. She wanted to see him too, now and later, at her dreams.

“Don’t you know, then? My brother and I are joining you on the way back to Winterfell.” She gave him her happiest smile.

“Are you serious?” He looked more like a boy than a man with the happy smile he gave her. She chuckled.

“Never been more serious.” She bit her lip.

“So, will you tell me more about you then?” He looked into her eyes, hopeful.

“I just might, Jon Snow.” She held his hand and caressed it, getting up from her chair and leaving his side, regretting not kissing him then and there.

* * *

“Fifteen years and you have not changed a bit, My Prince.” Arthur commented, sitting by Rhaegar’s side in front of the fire, everyone probably asleep already.

“I dreamt of doom, Arthur. Then I lived it. There are not many reasons to laugh about left for me.” Rhaegar said.

“Addam.” Eddard Stark said, “You must call him Addam out in the open, we have to be cautious.”

“We would not want your friend to know now, would you, Lord Stark?” Rhaegar was angry, of all the years he lost with Jon, of how he mourned Lyanna’s death not knowing she lived.

“Are we playing the blame game now, Your Grace? If you had not pursued my sister, none of this would have happened. My father and brother would still be alive, you would be a King by now and your wife and children would be alive and well.” Ned said.

“Not a day goes by without me hating myself for what happened to Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon. For what happened to Lord Stark and your brother. I was the one who had to tell of their fates to Lyanna, I was the one to hold her while she cried out her pain.  I know my share of guilt, Lord Stark, I carry it with me every day.” Rhaegar hissed under a murmur.

“It’s what happens when we choose love over duty, you were the Crown Prince, you should have known better.” Eddard Stark’s voice was full of grief.

“’Love is the bane of honor, the death of duty,’ my Uncle Aemon once wrote me. Most of what happened in life came either of a broken love or a broken duty. Wind and words, I might be a dragon, my Lord, but I am also human, and the Gods have fashioned us for love.” He whispered, eyeing the fire.

“Wind and words? Words matter, Magíster.” He said in disbelief. “When enough people make false promises and break oaths, that is when words will stop meaning anything.”

“Elia knew of me and Lyanna, she loved me as I loved her, as two friends forced into a situation doomed not to work. But she was the kindest soul I had ever known, and she did not deserve what came upon her. Not a day goes by without me thinking of how many opportunities I had to kill your friend and Lord Tywin for what they did—“ Rhaegar was half anguished, half angry.

“Robert did not –“ Eddard had to point out that Robert never killed the kids, but Rhaegar did not let him finish.

“He might not have raped Elia, stabbed my Rhaenys or cracked my little boy’s head, but he damn well applauded those who did and rewarded them with richness and power. I would have thought your sense of honor would let you see it, Lord Stark.” Rhaegar lost his mind whenever he thought of these two men, and how badly he wanted to kill them, gut them. He would rejoice even further to have Tywin Lannister and Robert Baratheon’s head on spikes.

“I know he did,” Ned’s voice was small, grief could be found as well. “We haven’t spoken in years. He fancies a betrothal to my daughter… I just don’t want her anywhere near Tywin Lannister or his grandchildren.”

“A wise choice, Lord Stark. One I could not make.”

“You chose love over duty, and you duty over love. It broke both of your hearts and souls, will you two stop trying to measure pains and misery? We all lost too much at the Rebellion, regardless of how it started, and how it end changed everything. You chose the rebels side, Lord Stark, you chose not to talk to Rhaegar at the Trident. You could have avoided it all too, and Rhaegar could have ignored the way he felt about Lyanna as well, but neither of you did. So handle it somehow, the blame game will add nothing to either one of us now.” Arthur had silently listened to everything but he could no longer hear their bickering that would go nowhere.

“Trident? I was never called to do anything but fight.” Ned raised his voice but soon quieted it down when he realized he lost his cool.

“I sent four men to let you and my cousin know I wanted to parley.” Rhaegar said.

“I never received any men or letter or message, anything. Do not lie to me.” Ned was furious.

“Why would I lie? After all of this, why would I lie about it?” It all made sense to him now, someone got the message but it was not Eddard Stark. Someone wanted the battle to happen, and it wasn’t Eddard Stark.

Eddard stared at him, trying to find the lie in his features, but he found none.

“Go to sleep, _Magíster.”_ Eddard said, and looked back at Addam, “it will be a long day for us tomorrow. Winter is coming and Winterfell is still miles away.”

He left for his tent, his mind spinning with the words he’d just heard. 

* * *

They had left White Harbor for days now, their party returning further north to Winterfell, the Magíster and the woman Jon now knew to be his sister, following them to treat business that could benefit the North during the upcoming winter.

Wylla Manderly seemed to be the saddest one with their departure. Robb had danced and payed her attention throughout their trip. Jon was sure she would already be Lady Stark if it came down to her; although the girl seemed strong and charming instead of a silly maiden singing songs of knights and heroes. Robb had been quite attracted to her delicate face and green hair, not to mention when he saw her use a bow and an arrow, attractive indeed.

Jon was walking around their camp now, trying to keep his mind clear. He would not stop having dreams of Dany but now they were getting bolder, more intimate. She would tell him about growing up without a home for the fear of being killed, she would never say why, just getting emotional about her need to hide and find solace in his arms.

Ayla’s room had become their safe space, somewhere where they could let out their fears and dreams, where they could be their selves without shame.

He told her he saw a maiden at the wedding with the same dress she wore, only to see her cheeks reddening and a bite of her lip, as if she was holding back a reaction. He considered her being the Lady, they had the same wit, same humor, yet, different faces, heights and eyes.

How can two people looking so differently be so similar? He got an answer that night.

He was walking around their tents for hours now, when he saw a dim light coming from a distant tent. He approached silently but enough to see through the crack.

A girl combed her hair, dressed in a night gown, near a…baby dragon? The animal puffed and she laughed. He knew that laugh. He knew that hair. When another little beast flew to her shoulder, she kissed its head. He knew those lips too, so she turned to him completely. And he knew who she was.

He lost all air and he wanted to scream, before him in a tent there was Dany, his dream girl. She grabbed something and touched her arm, out of his sight. Then she was a brunette, taller and slender. She had become an entirely different girl. Whom he also knew.

Was he dreaming? Before he could answer, he ran out of there and walked back to his shared tent with Robb. He was completely losing his mind, and it was all because of her.

* * *

Ned missed home. Whatever he went, nowhere felt like Winterfell. He could see his children waiting for him in a line, alongside his wife, Catelyn.

Catelyn was beautiful in her dress and furs. She was always beautiful, they built a life together with each passing day, but somewhere in his heart he knew that he was a consolation prize for her just as much as she was for him. She had lost Brandon; he had lost Ashara. So they held on to each other and somewhere along the way, they fell in love.

There was always a palpable distance between them from the moment Jon and Lyanna arrived. They would do their duties as husband and wife, but she resented his betrayal and he resented the way she treated Jon.

Before he could dive further into his dark thoughts, he got down from his horse and felt a tug on his leg, smiling up at him was Rickon, his youngest and his little climber, Bran. He hugged his boys and greeted the rest of his children.

“Oh, Ned! It is so good to have you back.” Catelyn’s arms held on to him and he kissed the side of her head, smiling back at her.

“Father.” His always gracious daughter bowed slightly, she had a crown of white roses on her head, she must have been playing songs with Jeyne, the girls loved their songs as much as Arya loved her training.

“Robb!” She backed away from him to hold her son, clearly ignoring Jon’s presence. She seemed to notice the foreigners though, and she looked back at her husband in question.

“Allow me to introduce you Magíster Lucerys and Lady Alysanne. They have come to Winterfell and they will stay for some time, I would like for them to be given rooms near the First Keep.” He whispered the last time to her, who seemed quite confused by his demand, the First Keep was usually kept isolated, if not for Lyanna.

“It is a pleasure, Magíster.” Although her face showed the opposite of her words. “You have Winterfell’s hospitality at your service.” Always the courteous lady, she offered.

“Thank you, Lady Stark. I appreciate it very much.” The man answered her back, approaching them alongside his sister.

“Let us prepare for supper, I am starving.” Ned entered the castle, he knew Rhaegar’s nervousness was nothing to do with arriving at a new place, but the woman who awaited him at it.

As soon as he entered his keep, he saw Maester Luwin walking his way. The good Maester bowed slightly and offered him a letter. At first, he imagined something was wrong, the man giving him a letter with the seal of House Dayne, when he saw the handwriting in it. He looked back at Arthur in question, and pushed the man to the side, showing him the wax. The Dornish men paled.

Arthur was not an emotional man but Ned saw the emotions going throw the same eyes of the sender.

Catelyn stand beside him, trying to understand the exchange of looks but before anyone could say anything, Rhaegar begged his pardon and asked for his chambers, he claimed to be exhausted. Catelyn left beside him and Lady Alys, directing them to their chambers as Ned grabbed the letter and went to the Godswood, where no one could bother him.

* * *

She was taking care of Winter, the horse was a bit old and needed her care, not that she did not love the time she spent with her, brushing her mane and talking to her endlessly. One could even say Winter was one of the few creatures in Winterfell who knew who she truly was.

Lyanna laughed at herself with such a thought.

She was brushing Winter, when she heard someone rushing inside the stable. The man was breathing heavily, almost out of air from a fast run, eyeing her desperately, taking in her form. She wanted to ask if she could help him in any way, what was happening to him; it almost made her think he somehow knew who she was, but before she could form her words he hugged her.

She was startled.

What the—before she could question his actions, he did _it_. He caressed the hairs in the back of her head, curling a curl. _Like only he used to._

It could not be.

She shivered and trembled, breaking his hug apart to look at his face. He was dark haired and had brown eyes, how could he? Was she delusional?

But he moved and touched something on his arm, and suddenly there he was. Tall, silver and indigo.

She chuckled and sobbed, Lyanna touched his face wet with his tears.

“Lya.” He held her once again, weeping on her neck, while her hands touched his back and arms, as if trying to believe he was really there, that he was really alive.

Convinced enough, she got some distance from him to look into his eyes.

“Is that really you?” She whispered, her hands reaching for his face, touching it lightly, barely believing what she felt. His skin had always been warmer, even now, at Winterfell, with winter approaching.

He touched her hands and leaned into her, capturing her lips in a kiss, one neither believed they would get to share again. No more than a touch, but enough to flood their senses and convince one from the other’s presence.

He licked her lips and she gave him the entrance, invading her mouth and slowly savoring the taste of the woman he loved. Lyanna’s lips hadn’t changed, it was still just as sweet, just as soft. Her hand roamed his face all the way to his neck, grabbing the hairs on the back to pull him impossibly closer.

They stood this way for a long moment, until air was needed and they broke apart, out of air, filled of love.

“How are you here? All these years, all these years I thought you dead. I mourned you, I wept endlessly for you, for never being able to tell our son about his father, about us” she started crying again and he held her to him.

“I do not know, Lya. I was dead, bleeding out on the ground, then I wasn’t. When I woke up, I was told of your death, of Elia and the children’s death, I was going to end my life, until I heard of my mother, and Daenerys.”

“The girl you were talking about me.”

“You saw that?”

“My dreams showed you to me.”

“I never knew you lived, Lya, had I known I would run across the world to find you. I’d have fought any fight just to be with you and our son. You know I would.”

“I know, my love.” She peppered kisses all over his face. “I know.”

“How are you here now? What—does Ned know you are here?” She then remembered her brother.

“He allowed me to follow them further North. I have no plan, no agenda, but if you’ll have me, I will be yours forever. I will go wherever you want me to.” Rhaegar feared her not wanting his presence, he did cause death and misery, how could she still love him after that?

“You are not leaving my sight ever again, Rhaegar Targaryen, or I will kill you myself.” She hugged him strongly, kissing his neck, following to his jaw until their lips met again. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO???  
> I noticed you guys questioned a lot how Dorne was invaded, but Dorne has been invaded more than once in the history, but the fact that they were in fact invaded does not mean they'll breake and bend. They are clever and...let's just say Rhaenys Targaryen learned not to mess with the Dornish, maaaaybe the Lannisters will too, who knows? Stay tuned! hahaha 
> 
> Keep in mind this is an au, so there will be things ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE, or let's say CANON DIVERGENCY. Robert and Ned don't get along because after the huge fight they had over the murder of the Targaryen children and Princess Elia, they didn't bond over Lyanna's death, our girl lives here and it changed a lot of things in the story. 
> 
> Anywayyyy, leave me comments with what you guys thought of the chapter, I hope it was to your liking. Jonerys is being developed but so will be Rhaegar and Lyanna now our babes have finally met again. HOW WAS THAT, HUM? Did you guys enjoy it? Awn, so happy to be finally able to share it. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on it. Kudos and comments mean a lot to me! <3 Who was your MVP this chapter? :


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winterfell is filled with secrets and all the comings and goings promise to expose it all, one by one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> Thank you so much for your patience, the last few months have been quite hard on me and my arm. It's getting better but it's a very slow process which drives this anxious creature insane.  
> Another chapter brought to you by dictation LOL but it was beta'd by my talented and amazing friend [Fairytalelovr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalelovr/pseuds/fairytalelovr), she always knows how to cheer me up and she's amazing in English so thanks to her for beta-ing this. This fic was indeed written for her bday, so... 
> 
> Callmedewitt, Lustonmyfingers, lilgulie5 and Valdecastille are four of the beautiful souls who kept my spirits up when I was down and if this chapter was born it was thank to them as well.
> 
> Thank you everyone for such heartwarming messages, I will start answering everyone tonight, thanks for waiting this long. I am sorry once again, but here it is :D

“What does he know about me? About us?” Rhaegar asked after a moment of silence.

“He thinks I’m a handmaiden, probably one with privileges, considering I have my own isolated room in the First Keep.” She gave him a half-smile. “Ned reformed it for me to his wife’s greatest displeasure and for many years she believed me Ned’s mistress. Wouldn’t that be something?” She laughed quietly, while he just looked at her, admiring her laughter after so many years, although he did not enjoy the thought of the rejection Lyanna got from her good sister.

“Catelyn Tully wasn’t receptive of you and Aegon, I take it?” He was sad at the thought of his child being treated as an outsider and his wife as a random woman in her own home.

“Nothing I could not handle. Catelyn Tully has no power over me, I guarantee you,” she looked at him fiercely, he just laughed.

“I don’t think anyone does, Lyanna.” He smiled foolishly, he felt years younger.

“I raised him as Jon, it was Ned’s idea. It would be hard to hide an Aegon, Jon was easier. He never knew I was his blood, but I was always his mother.” Her eyes were filled with tears. “I was too weak to nurse him but I guarded his slumber and I wiped away his tears, sang him to sleep, and helped him ride his first horse.” She was filled with emotions. “He loves horses just as much as I do, Rhaegar.” She giggled quietly. “He once snuck into my room late at night, to beg me to take him for a ride, he had been having nightmares and he could not find sleep.

We rode for hours, until daybreak. It was the first time he told me he wished I could be his mother. I cried for hours back in my room, missing you, missing myself.” She was a strong woman, but the sight of her child crying out for her was too much even for the She-Wolf of Winterfell.

“Oh, Lya. I am so sorry.” He held her tight, kissing all over her face and hair. “I should have been here. I can never say this enough.” He was crying as well. “I failed Elia, I failed Rhaenys and Aegon, and I failed you and Jon.” He was shaking and it was her turn to comfort him.

“We all made our choices, Rhaegar. You can’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. It will break you.” She held his face in her hands, staring into his eyes.

“But If I hadn’t left her behind…If I— “

“Let’s not play the if game, love. Elia was not a woman of ifs and you take away her power by pinning it all on yourself. It was not your fault nor hers, she was tortured and murdered by the orders of Tywin Lannister. You wanted her to go to Dragonstone and if not for your father, who knows? She could have gone to Dorne, even Essos with your mother. Hells, I would have brought her here with me, if I could have.” He knew she was right, but he also knew this was a weight he would carry forever.

“I want him dead, Lyanna. He killed my family, my entire family. Tywin Lannister, Kevan Lannister, Jaime and Cersei as well.” His cry was one of anger now.

“Someone told me Ser Jaime wept when he heard of Elia and the children. Ned hates him for his betrayal, but I can’t help myself in thinking that he never knew his father planned to get them killed.” Lyanna had considered the events of the Rebellion times and times over. She thought of every single one of the potential possibilities.

Jon Arryn had to rebel, he would never deliver Ned and Robert. They were as close to him as sons could be. Rhaegar had saved her when they ran away, from a fate of misery with a man she disliked. It had been selfish and sometimes she thought of how her marrying Robert and bearing his children could have stopped the Realm from bleeding.

But it would not do well to play the if game, as she just said, and she would never regret Jon, no matter how selfish it made her.

“I asked him to take care of them while I was gone. I trusted him with my family and his father killed them.” Rhaegar could not stop himself from hating Jaime Lannister.

“Arthur seems to blame himself for ever training him,” she mentioned.

“He would do that; Arthur is the best man I have ever met.”

“Oh, remember not to mention it to Ser Oswell, he’s always somewhere around me. They lost their king but never stopped guarding me and Jon,” she said fondly.

“They are good men. Good friends and guards,” Rhaegar said.

“It’s a shame to think of the likes of Meryn Trant and Boros Blount in the Kingsguard now.” She played with his fingers, as she used to. “To think of that oaf as a king at all.” She let out a breath.

“That seat is cursed, it only brought misery upon those who sat there.” Rhaegar’s voice was back to being solemn and broody.

“To those who ruled in their favor, who cared not for the people. King Jaehaerys was a good king, one who lived long and prospered the realm. So did Aegon, the Unlikely, Maegor, the Cruel, and so many others.” She touched his cheek. He was older but his skin was just as warm, now taken by hairs with the unmade beard he wore.

“Jon should be King. He should sit at the Throne, if not for the Usurper.” Rhaegar’s eyes were on fire.

“Not now, it should be you there. Ruling and protecting Westeros. Jon is but a boy, he should have more time to live, to fall in love and to do whatever he wants to.” Lyanna said.

“But the throne is lost and I am not fighting for a cursed chair, Lya.” Rhaegar said, “It’s not worth it. I don’t need a crown, I just want to be beside you and to get to know Jon. I just want to be a family. And Daenerys, oh, you will love her. My sister is a brilliant young woman.” His rare smile was there, beautiful and proud.

“I dreamt of her too. Although I had a weird dream of her,” Lyanna looked up at him, and said it quietly, observing his reaction. “She was with child, sitting at a man’s lap at what I presume to be the Red Keep, the girl had two dragons outside the balcony she stood and her and the husband were talking to them in High Valyrian,” she paused, “the man was Jon, Rhaegar.”

Lyanna flushed, the thought of her child having a child with his aunt. Living at the capital. The capital would never be safe for him, how come he was at the Red Keep staring at dragons and caressing his wife’s belly?

“You saw them… married?” He was dumbfounded.

“If she has your hair, violet eyes and a curvy and slim form even with the belly, then yes. I saw it a few days back.” She saw the absurdity of it all. Prophecy and dreams? She had heard of wolf dreams but it was not supposedly like this, was it?

He laughed. Rhaegar laughed loudly and she just stared at him as if he had grown a second head.

“They were at the Red Keep? You have never been there, how would you know?” It made no sense, them being there. Robert would rather kill them then let them ever enter the place, let alone inhabit it.

“I’ve seen drawings of it, and the description was quite accurate, the smell and the castle were quite distinctive.” She shrugged.

“What does it mean, Rhaegar?” She was afraid to consider what it all meant.

“I’d say we are to find out soon.” He kissed her brow and cleaned out his mind. All he wanted was to hold her and never let her go.

* * *

 “Don’t you ever do that to your mother, Arya Stark. You almost sent me to the Gods with the scare you gave me.” Catelyn was scolding her daughter when she saw Jon smile slightly.

“This is a family conversation only, Jon Snow, you are free to leave this room.” Her voice was stone cold and the boy soon blushed and dropped his head down, leaving the room quietly and ashamed. The strange brunette girl seemed mad, but Catelyn paid her no attention.

“Why do you always have to talk to Jon like that, mother? I was the one who upset you, not him.” Her daughter screamed at her and it angered her even further, to fight with her children over Jon Snow.

“Excuse me, Lady Stark, where can I find Magíster Lucerys?” The Essosi beauty asked her, and Catelyn noticed the way the girl ignored her son in favor of the bastard boy. Not that she would want a foreigner for Robb.

“I saw him go to the Glass Garden, my Lady,” Ser Addam answered. “I can take you to your chambers if you want,” he offered.

“Thank you, Ser. I would appreciate it very much.”

The knight led her to her chambers and Catelyn looked back at Robb.

“What is it that Ned need from these people? The King wants to come to Winterfell, we cannot receive commoners while housing the King.” Catelyn complained to her son.

“The King? Coming here? Why would he do that? We live miles and miles away.” Robb seemed confused.

“Dear boy, the King and your father are long lost friends, a friendship like theirs never really ends.” Catelyn affirmed and reached him to caress his cheek but he stepped away from her.

“Father is not friends with the King anymore,” her boy said. “And he wouldn’t like to see you treating Jon like that. Neither do I, mother.” Robb nodded before her and left the Hall, heading gods know where.

She was then left alone to her thoughts and the stare of the household.

Why was it that no one understood how she felt about Jon? For the first five years of her life, he had been the bastard of the Dornish whore her husband brought home. He even brought the whore with him, that was unlike the man she heard Eddard Stark to be. Until that day, when she understood everything. When Lyanna was revealed before her, as was Sers Arthur Dayne and Oswell Whent, and the boy was in fact, Aegon Targaryen, the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.

Now, he wasn’t her husband’s bastard anymore. But the product of what got her Brandon killed. If Rhaegar had kept to his wife’s bed as it should be, Lyanna would have been wed to Robert and Brandon to her.

She had loved Brandon from the moment she met him. Seven hells, even before that. She had heard of the Heir to Winterfell, the Wild Wolf, all maidens wanted him but he would be all hers.

But Lyanna had to be a selfish spoiled little girl and run away with the Prince, changing everything for everyone, taking away her Brandon, leaving her Ned.

She loved Ned, she really did. She had grown to love him over the years, even throughout the years she imagined he had cheated on her. But Brandon was so quick to make her smile, he was so good with words, and she missed him still.

She saw Ned receive a letter, one with the Dayne seal and she hated not being able to know what it said. She would give him time and space, he would come to her and share eventually, Ned was not just her husband, he was her friend, he would tell her what it was about, she knew it in her heart.

Except he did not, he locked himself in a chamber other than the one they shared, and did not come down for supper or anything else, only receiving his sister and the Magíster. She still had no idea what Ned would want with such a man, so she kept on eye on him, and the Lady he brought along, who did not seem to keep her distance from Jon, therefore, Robb. May the bastard have her, no heir to Winterfell will never marry a foreigner.

* * *

_Dearest Ned,_

_I know you will hate me when you read these next words, but there is naught I can say for myself other than everything that was done was to keep our daughter safe._

_Yes. I lied. I did not lose the child and I am breathing as much as Lyanna is. My elder brother heard rumors of the Targaryen children being hidden in Starfall right after the Rebellion, so I had to act as if I had killed myself, no one would think a house in so much pain would care for anyone’s children._

_While you and the others were here, I had Allyria at the Water Gardens with Arianne and Doran Martell. Both Doran and Oberyn know who sired Allyria but after what happened to Elia and the babes, and hearing your reaction about it, they took care of her for a few moons while I received you and then acted out my disappearance in despair and fled to the Martell’s keep._

_She is so beautiful, Ned. She is as talented with a needle as she is with a sword, she loves to sing and ride, she’s a fine adversary in cyvasse as well. She is very close to her cousin, Lord Edric, whom we lovingly call Ned. You were never forgotten at Starfall, how you brought us Arthur, and you gave me my greatest gift._

_I know you are an honorable man, it is either your greatest feature or your worst flaw, I would not know exactly, but for that I had to disappear. I know how Westeros treats bastards, and I know you married the Tully girl even though we were secretly betrothed. You had two duties, so you chose one and honored it. I won’t hold it against you if you kindly offer me the same treatment._

_Allyria has been my greatest treasure and I would never regret our love, for as brief as it was, even with how forbidden it turned into. It gave me her. And you, in a way. It’s impossible to look at her and forget your lips on my skin, your beard and hair, hers being the same hair color as most of you Starks. Her coloring is yours, but her eyes are mine. She loves to dance and to learn of history. She’s an avid reader._

_She grew up as my sister, but years ago I told her the truth. She knows to be your daughter and she has loved you from afar. Your honor, bravery and warm heart is known throughout the Seven Kingdoms._

_If I may ask you two things, I’d be forever grateful. First of all, please, do not be mad at Arthur, all he did was protecting me and our daughter. As you have protected Lyanna. He is a good man, and devoted to the ones he loves, a true knight. He also begged me more than once to tell you about us, but once I make up my mind, I hardly change it._

_Second of all, I need your help. Dorne is being attacked by the Lannisters and we have no idea how or why. Dorne must be the hardest place to invade but somehow Tywin Lannister managed it. Queen Cersei and her children are here, they are said to be here to celebrate Ally’s name day, but I hardly think so. The air is thick with conspiracy and I fear for our lives. I shall speak to my brother and arrange for our escape tomorrow with dawn._

_I don’t want to pry or get in the way of your family, I just want to keep mine safe. Would you have me at Winterfell until I can find somewhere safer for us? I know it’s too much to ask, and you probably hate me deeply, but I have nowhere else to go, Sunspear is under siege, the Water Gardens in alert, and all the Dornish have run to the hide on the mountains, it is almost as if Rhaenys Targaryen came to Dorne once again — they’ll find nothing but empty keeps. But Tywin Lannister and Robert Baratheon are no dragons, so they will taste the poison and heat of Dorne when time comes._

_I hope by the time this letter reaches you, you will find it in your heart to if not forgive me, at least to understand my actions. And to accept us until we can find somewhere else to be safe. I intend to sail with my daughter, my nephew Edric, and my big brother. May all the Gods bless us, I would want nothing more in life than to see you meet Allyria, and just to see you once again._

_With all my love,_

_Lady Ashara Dayne._

Ned Stark was in shock. He was furious and devastated. He was losing his mind and he felt so stupid for never realizing the deception. How could he never suspect she lived? Arthur kept sending letters to Dorne regularly, but then he still had an older brother and a young sister. No, not a sister. A niece. My daughter.

Blood of my blood, a product of mine and Ashara’s love. The woman he was meant to marry, that still haunted his dreams. How many times would he wake up at night with the expectation of sweet raven black hair and haunting purple eyes staring back at him, but all he found was a sleeping red headed beauty, his duty at first, his companion after a while, his love eventually, but never the one who owned his soul as Lady Ashara did.

Could this be true? Rhaegar Targaryen is back, Daenerys Targaryen lives, Ashara lives and she is not only coming to Winterfell seeking refuge, but she’s also bringing along the daughter he never knew they had.

Lannisters and Baratheons attacking Dorne? What was it that Robert was trying to accomplish? Had his friend gone mad? Robert had not been friends with him for the longest time, but he still pitied what the crown at the top of his head made him become. Ned did not know that stranger, nor did he like him.

He wouldn’t sleep that night, lost in the past, the present and the uncertainty of the future. There was only one thing he was sure of, that he was not ready to see her again, he did not know how he would react to her presence, and that thought scared the Warden of the North.

* * *

“I am quite sure, Lady Olenna. I saw it with me own eyes. It was Prince Rhaegar. He is alive. I worked at the kitchens at the Red Keep for years, the Prince was well loved by all, it would be hard to miss such a man with silver hair and purple eyes.” The servant girl told the Queen of Thorns.

“They say his brother lived, escaped with the Queen. Viserys Targaryen must have been the one you saw, dear.” It was hard to believe that no one would find out the Prince lived after so many years.

“No, M’lady. Viserys Targaryen died at sea. M’a friend Lucy worked for the Velaryons and she was sure he died amongst their shipwreck during that storm.” She was frantic, still, Olenna found it hard to believe, but it would be stupid of her to assume the girl was delusional without further research.

“So, where is he now?” Olenna asked.

“I don’t know, M’lady.” The girl said. “But a merchant from Volantis said he saw a man and a woman leave Essos in a ship heading to White Harbor. Both had their hairs covered but the eyes were hard to miss. He said they were hardly seen at harbor, but when they were, the purple of the young girl’s eyes were all Targaryen.”

“North, then?” Olenna started find it odd. The Targaryens were hated in the North, so for such a visit, something deeper must have taken place there.

“Thank you for your information, Kila. You may get your golden dragons on the way out.” She dismissed the woman who bowed before her and left the old lady’s solar.

“Lana, fetch me Willas. There is much I must discuss with my grandson. Make sure Mace is nowhere near this door, you hear me?” her personal handmaiden left the room in a hurry, off to find her grandson, who would probably be at the library, and until he got there, she was thinking of the various paths they could take.

Set Cersei aside to marry the King to Margaery? She would certainly not offer her precious girl to that oaf of a king. Joffrey Baratheon was said to be impolite and rude, on the brink of madness, that little monster would never touch her granddaughter. Lord Arryn’s heir was too young and if rumors were to be believed, too stupid. Harold Hardying would be the next choice but Margaery deserved better, Olenna thought.

The Tully heir is unmarried and said to be his share of handsome. But it was neither one of these man she considered ideal for Margaery. There was an heir who was said to be comely, brave, strong enough for her granddaughter’s liking, and as honorable as his father, to Olenna’s.

If the Targaryens were heading North for an alliance, mayhap the supposed Rhaegar Targaryen would wed his sister to their heir. Instead, she decided to be faster. Fetch her fastest raven and send Lord Stark a letter speaking of alliances for the upcoming winter’s provisions and how House Tyrell could be of help. No demand or questions asked, but she knew Ned Stark or at least his wife wouldn’t be stupid enough to not see the meaning behind her words.

Margaery would be near Robb Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen, who knows if the former Prince is looking for a new wife. Olenna knew the boy, she could not imagine him abducting and raping the Stark girl, so if he needed a queen, Margaery should be the first choice, if not, mayhap the heir to the North was, and in case of any wars breaking, she knew she would have to pick the best side, and given the lack of popularity of the Lannisters and the ruling of the current King, Westeros could once again bow to dragons, so she knew exactly where her golden flower could blossom, they say there are beautiful winter roses at Winterfell. Mayhap it could be the start of a few golden ones.

* * *

“Ayla!” Jon said and walked to her, not seeing the man near her, engulfing his friend in a hug.

“Sweetling,” She touched his curls, pushing them back in caress.

“I believe you have already met the Magíster?” Lyanna pointed out to Rhaegar who had his eyes filled with tears and Jon had no idea why.

“Yes, I have. Are you well, My Lord? I see you seem a bit faint.” He looked into the man’s dark eyes, but he saw something hidden there, not exactly sure of what, he just knew there was something somewhere.

“Yes, I am. Thank you, young man.” He smiled at Jon, who bowed slightly and turned his eyes to Ayla.

“I’ve made a decision and I need your support. If you can, Ayla.” His voice was a bit insecure.

“Oh, Jon. My ears are yours, you know I always have time for you.” She said warmly. Jon side eyed the stranger and looked back at Ayla as if questioning her why the man was still there.

“Would you excuse us for a moment, Magíster Lucerys?” She asked him after a while. His face fell in disappointment, he just bowed, grabbed her hand and kissed it and tapped Jon on the shoulder, and left their presence, looking for his sister.

“Do you know him?” Jon found a proximity between them he considered at least a bit weird.

“He is an old friend.” She blushed furiously, Jon decided her privacy was her own and did not question further.

“Ayla, I think I will go back to the Wall with Uncle Benjen when he comes.” Jon’s voice was quiet, almost as if he feared her reaction.

“What? Why? The Wall is no place for you, Jon. It’s dark and full of terrors, you deserve so much better than that. No, I won’t let you.” She was on the brink of tears, but he would not change his mind. “Was it something Catelyn Tully said?” She asked him furiously.

“No, she is Lady Catelyn Stark now. I don’t want you to be punished in my behalf, be careful.” He shook his head.

“You can’t go, Jon.” She insisted.

“I wasn’t asking, Ayla. I have no prospect of a future here; I am bastard without a keep or even a talent to offer Robb. I can write, read and fight. Nothing he does not already have here, but I will be of great use at the Wall. I will make a difference there, everyone will be my equal, I won’t feel as though I’m less.” He insisted.

“Oh, my dear boy. You are no less important than anyone here. You matter, you are so much more than you know.” Her eyes threatening to spill thick tears.

“I must make something of myself, Ayla. I need to do this.” He was determined.

“Jon, may I have a talk with you later tonight? After supper?” She had a face he could not read.

“Sure, but you will not change my mind, I promise you.” He would not change his mind, does not matter his interest for the Essosi girl, he had his dream lady to keep him company and in dreams even a Night’s Watch brother could find love. “Nothing you can tell me can change my mind, Ayla.”

“I would still like to try.” She insisted, holding his hand.

* * *

“Addam, my friend.” Ser Oswell hugged his brother, but something was off in the man’s face,

“What is it, you look as though you drank piss.” Arthur japed.

“I have something to tell you, a letter came from Starfall…to Lyanna.” Oswell said and Arthur’s senses came alive. Only two people at Starfall knew of his Queen’s whereabouts and even the fact that she was alive at all, his brother and sister.

“Lyanna did not know about Ashara.” He murmured.

“Now she does, and she also knows about Allyria. They are coming here.” It didn’t make any sense to Arthur, or it was just his brain trying to make sense of his words.

“What do you mean they are coming here?” Ashara would never come to Winterfell unless she had no other option.

“The Lannisters attacked Dorne, brother. They tried to kill Doran but only managed to hurt him, they kidnapped two of the youngest of Oberyn’s girls and then they followed to Starfall, Ash said she was trying to bring your brother and nephews with her here, but I received a raven yesterday from an unknown source reporting… your brother’s murder and them taking over Starfall.” Oswell’s voice kept getting quieter and quieter, trying to soften the blow that such news could cause in his brother, but knowing there was no volume that would change his friend’s pain.

Arthur did not react, his face was stoic, he could be a statue for all he knew, until his stormy purple eyes smashed a table near him and his hand bled. He punched the table a few times, groaning in pain but making no other sound. His friend let him, he knew Arthur needed to let it out.

“Arthur,” he then said, “enough! Lyanna needs you. Jon needs you. Ashara is alive, so is Allyria and little Ned. Let’s make sure your brother’s death is honored by protecting your family.” He held his friend back from actually breaking his hand.

Arthur’s eyes were filled with pain, and his hand was down as if he had been when he learned of Rhaegar’s death. “We need them out. No Lannister will rule over Dorne, Dorne bows to no one. It was the dragons they joined, lions have no strength in our mountains.” He was angry, furious.

“We don’t have an army, we barely have a King, Jon is but a child and Ned doesn’t want to go to war, you know it.”

“Daeron was fourteen when he conquered Dorne, but let Jon be a boy for longer, we have a King, Oswell. The rightful King.” Arthur then eyed him fiercely. “I found Rhaegar, or should I say, he found me.” Oswell was the one having difficulty to understand the said words.

“Rhaegar actually lives?” He muttered.

“Rhaegar is here, Oswell. He is at Winterfell.”

* * *

“We are almost there, Sweetling.” Ashara murmured to her nephew’s sleepy head. The boy was tired, they had been walking for hours, days from arriving at White Harbor, they did not have enough warm clothes to make sure they don’t freeze to death, so at night, they needed either a war fire or just keep moving, make sure their blood did not turn to ice.

“I am tired, Aunt. I…”

“It’s okay, Ned. We are almost there, are we not, mother? Soon enough you’ll be at one of the oldest, most important keeps of all Westeros.” Ashara distracted her cousin with stories and swordplay.

“Won’t it be cold there?” The boy asked, distracted by his cousin.

“No, they have hot springs flowing waters through the walls, keeping the stones and the rooms warm enough to inhabit it.

“How do you know that?” He was always a curious one.

“I read about it in the library, I read a lot about House Stark.” She murmured.

In truth, after learning Ned Stark to be her father, she hated him. Hated him for leaving her before he could even know her, hated him for the tears she saw at her mother’s eyes when she told her about him. How Ashara would not accept any courtship at first, then pretending herself to be a Septa.

Ashara Dayne loved Ned Stark, regardless of his lack of love for her, Allyria knew. But with time and lots of talks with her mother, she understood what actually happened. She understood how he never rejected her because he never even knew about her, because knowing could only threaten them. She sadly accepted it, avoided talking to her mother about it, for she knew it saddened Ashara.

“Brandon, the builder was the founder of House Stark. He built Winterfell, some even say with the help of the Children of the Forest and giants. They have Weirwood trees, the Starks follow the Old Gods, and also hot springs all over the land, the castle has many towers but it has been built more and more with the passing years, from Winter King to Winter King, until Tohrren Stark bent the knee, and then Wardens of the North, Winterfell still grows.” She told Ned, entertaining her cousin so the thin wools and it’s lack of warmth would not pain them so.

Ashara observed them, how her girl spoke passionately of her father’s house, it broke her soul denying them that bond. But she feared Robert Baratheon’s wrath, everyone knew Ashara had been close to the Targaryens, and Ned was no longer hers, someone else laid beside him, someone else’s arms around him. Why submit her child to the pain of the scorn given to bastards? Sure, Dorne was kinder to them, but throughout Westeros, she would be less than actual sand.

Ashara Dayne would die before she let that happened. But somewhere in her mind, she could not help but wonder, was this what this was all about or had she been selfish and jealous? No, she had to protect Allyria, it was all that mattered. Damn her heart and all her feelings, _Allyria was all that mattered_ , she repeated to herself.

They had been traveling for over two weeks and a few days now, sleeping wherever they could find, sometimes not sleeping at all. Her body ached, she could not even imagine what Allyria’s and Edric’s smaller bodies felt like. Until she finally saw the towers her daughter was speaking of. She wanted to cry in relief, but she feared so much what came for her. She could hear the children’s happiness but the will for a warm bed and a good meal, the thought of seeing and hugging Arthur was overshadowed by the fear of the man she loved, when he saw her for the first time in almost fifteen years.

* * *

“My Lord Hand, the letter about Lord Arryn’s passing has been sent to House Stark as the King commanded.” Varys approached Tywin Lannister at the Tower of the Hand’s door.

“And you came all the way here to tell me you did your duty? Expecting a pat on the back, Lord Varys? It does not become you.” Tywin’s voice filled with boredom.

“No, My Lord. But I do hold a piece of information you might think worthy more than a pat in the back.” His smile was cryptic as always, it bothered Tywin.

“Will you have me sing you a song in exchange of it, Varys? You are wasting my time.” Lord Tywin was now annoyed, Varys almost wanted to laugh knowing the man’s day was about to get a whole lot worse.

“I have eyes and ears north and south, east and west, my Lord, and not just a pair or two related me the same piece of information,” he took the time to enjoy his own suspense and the Lord of Lannister’s impatience. “Viserys Targaryen is dead, --“ he was then interrupted.

“It was about time the dragon’s cub was put down.” Tywin smiled dangerously.

“for almost sixteen years now.” Varys finished his sentence.

“What do you mean, Lord Varys. Stop running in circles.” His voice was louder now.

“Viserys Targaryen drowned with the Velaryon fleet. The man accompanying Daenerys Targaryen and the former Rhaella Targaryen was none other than Rhaegar Targaryen, Lord Tywin.” Varys’ face was a mask of impassivity.

“Robert Baratheon slayed Rhaegar Targaryen at the Trident, Lord Varys. Don’t waste my time with japes.”

“It is no jape, my Lord. The man nears his forties, and it gets worse, my Lord.” Varys said.

“Go ahead.” Tywin seemed surprised, his mind running a thousand miles.

“Rhaegar Targaryen and Daenerys Targaryen hatched dragon eggs, the last dragons now have real dragons of their own.” Varys was now cautious, and he would pay a thousand golden dragons to see the look of anger and fear mixed in the mighty Old Lion.

“There are no dragons, Lord Varys, dragons are gone for over a hundred years.” He was almost insolent.

“Then the person who hatched them must have something special, because the song of three fire breathing dragons was heard again, and you know what happened the last time Targaryens came to Westeros with their dragons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO? I can admit that I cried at some parts, but I'll let you guys tell me if you got emotional at any.  
> Which parts you think I kinda cried writing? LOL  
> What do you guys think Tywin is going to do now?  
> Will Dorne join the Starks? Also, Tyrells, hum? Give me your thoughts, I can't wait to hear them!  
> This family would still be an one-shot if not for all the amazing feedback I got, thank you thank you thank you. You guys rock!  
> Let me know what you thought of this chapter, I can't wait to hear it. Be kind too! :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets revealed, feelings confronted and lives changed forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii guys, what a lovely response to the last chapter. I must say, I get emotional every time, also I can guarantee a lot of the energy to write the next chapter comes from your comments!  
> My arm's been the same, but my dictation is on fire so here we are! LOL 
> 
> As always, I must thank my beloved beta, this chapter by my love [Fairytalelovr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalelovr/pseuds/fairytalelovr), I don't know what I would do without you! LustOnMyFingers, Lilgulie5, Callmedewitt and Valdecastille, you guys are awesome and all the support you give me helps me put my ideas into word, thanks for always listening to me! 
> 
> This chapter was over 13k long so I just had to share because I wouldn't want to bore you guys, right? So you may expect chapter 8 not so far from this one, I HOPE. LOL  
> Hate will not be tolerated, any hateful comments will be deleted!  
> I hope you guys enjoy it! <3

Jaime, Cersei, and the children arrived at the shores of the Blackwater early in the morning and Jaime knew his father needed to hear from him about the death of Lord Dayne. the Lord Hand was probably already aware of it, but he had to make sure that none it fell on Cersei, to blame a foot soldier or something like it.

He wished he could forget the image of the lord crawling and dying while trying to reach for something as Cersei and Joffrey left the man’s solar. He reminded Jaime a bit of Ser Arthur Dayne, the eyes and the build. What would Ser Arthur think of Jaime now? He was ashamed, wondering about the possibilities. It would not be good. But the dead had no thoughts.

Cersei had joined him in going straight to their father, until Joffrey threw a tantrum and she went after him, to make sure he behaved. The last thing they needed right now was for Robert to disown him — the boy grew more violent every day.

Reaching the Tower of the Hand, Jaime heard his father. No knight guarded his door, which was unusual.

“Varys seems to be sure of it, Tywin. We need to be sure.” What it seemed to be his uncle, Lord Kevan Lannister spoke quietly and severely.

“Rhaegar Targaryen is dead, burning at one of the seven heavens right now,” his father answered.

“Three fire breathing dragons, Ty. It seems they are still small, but we know dragons grow,” Lord Kevan added.

“Well, if these children stories are true and someone hatched dragon eggs, it would take them years to grow. We can worry about that later; I have no time for such follies,” Tywin answered.

“Then we probably do not need to worry ourselves with that matter now, but there are still those who sympathize with the former Prince, the Velaryons would be the first to go and we could lose a grand fleet,” Lord Kevan said.

“If Olenna Tyrell thinks she has something to gain, she would join his forces. We know the Targaryens have the habit of giving them wealth and power.” Lord Tywin snorted.

“They have over a hundred thousand swords, Tywin. We should betroth Joffrey to their girl. I heard Mace Tyrell has a beauty of an appropriate age.” Kevan said.

“That is true, I will look into it. The drunk wants his eldest son to marry the Stark girl. He thinks he can still mend their relationship,” Tywin said ironically. “We cannot have Eddard Stark here. He would harm all we have planned,” Tywin added.

“Then write to Olenna Tyrell and propose the betrothal. Just order the betrothal at once,” Lord Kevan said.

“This would turn me into Aerys, or Robert… If any fool believes him to actually rule the realm,” Tywin said. “I must make an offer she cannot refuse.”

Jaime was too frozen outside his father’s solar to even care if he was caught or not. This was most definitely not a conversation meant for anyone else’s ears.

Was Rhaegar… alive? His heart beat faster with the thought. His prince could be alive. Rhaegar had been the king Westeros needed and never got to have because he had lost his heart to the wolf girl.

Jaime never believed the stories about Rhaegar kidnapping and raping her. It was very unlike the polite, good man to do that. He just would not.

But was he alive? After all these years, where had he been? What was he doing? How was he doing at all, when he was supposed to be dead with a smashed in chest? Whenever he thought of the Prince, he was taken by shame. Shame for not being able to keep his promise to him, for not protecting Elia and his children.

The sight of them cloaked with Lannister mantles… Elia’s lifeless body. He would carry that memory with him to the grave. The days after it happened were some of the darkest of his life.

What did that mean for him? What did that mean for Westeros? Why was he back now, after all these years being gone…? What did he want?

The thought of Rhaegar killing Robert pleased Jaime more than he cared to admit. He had always hated the thought of Cersei being anyone’s but his, but he knew Rhaegar would not have treated her the way that drunken stag had. He would never have beaten her, never have raped her and he would most definitely never have been unkind to her. That was not Prince Rhaegar.

However, the truth was that, if Rhaegar ever returned to power, Jaime knew heads would roll. His probably included. Tywin Lannister had been the one responsible for his children’s deaths. Jaime had killed his father, and Robert, his future. He hoped in any scenario, Rhaegar would not harm Cersei or their children.

His uncle and father were right… If it came to war, the Tyrells would side with him if he managed to find himself an army. The Tyrells had been heavily taxed by Tywin and Littlefinger for supporting the Targaryens and so had been the Riverlands, for their fortune, as well as the Vale. Jaime feared what this could mean for them.

He thought back to Queen Rhaella, her kind eyes and easy smile. The Prince teaching his daughter about dragons and their dragonlords, the little Prince Viserys playing near his mother. He also remembered Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell sparring and the japes between the Kingsguard. The memory was clear as his own image on a mirror, yet more distant than any known land. Who would have known… 

* * *

Varys observed Jaime Lannister’s reactions to the news, and they delighted him. He expected it to help his plans: he hoped the silly knight would tell his sister and, though it was hard to predict the lioness’ reaction, what Varys actually wanted was for it to reach Robert’s ears sooner rather than later.

Rhaegar Targaryen lived and he had three fire breathing dragons beside him. This time, a Baratheon would not be beside the dragons, he would burn.

Chaos would give Varys what he wanted, take from those he loathed and give to those who could help the realm. Rhaegar had no heir though, so the Dragon Prince would need a suitable bride. Maybe Lady Margaery? Or would he return to a Stark?

However, this was not a worry he had right now. He focused on building the alliances, so he wrote Winterfell a letter, revealing a friend inside the Red Keep who would help the man to return to power, so Varys could present him with a prince. A true, noble, and gentle Targaryen prince. 

* * *

Jon was angry and frustrated, he just wanted to lash out at something. He knew this holdfast had no place for him, so he gave himself the dream of going somewhere where he could make something of himself. Where he would be no one’s bastard, he would just be Jon.

He hated the thought of living far from Ayla, but that was the way the world works. She raised him as her own and, in a way, he was hers. But he was a man, with a destiny upfront, and he had to follow his way.

Whatever she had planned to say to him, he could not imagine that anything she told him could make him change his mind. He would go away, he would become a Night’s Watch Ranger, and he would matter somewhere, next to Uncle Benjen.

He could not help but think of his dream lady, Dany. It felt wrong to take a vow which took her away from him, but he could take her everywhere, she would always be with him in his dreams. But not Alysanne, she would do whatever she was meant to be doing here and then she would go back to her beautiful, foreign land.

How she had turned into the image of his Dany still baffled him. How could that be? Also the dragons? Was he dreaming, then? Was he delusional? What in the seven hells had happened? Had he—He stumbled into a wall, but as it turned out it was a person. Alysanne’s brother.

“Oh, I am sorry. I was a bit distracted,” Jon apologized to the man, who only smiled.

“There is no problem, young man. I was distracted myself, I tend to do that a lot.” He continued to grow his shy smile. “I hear you are a bright young man, that you are a fine swordsman,” he said, which surprised Jon. He was good, but nothing compared to what an actual fine swordsman was supposed to be.

“Whoever said that must have had low standards, Magíster. I am no such thing.” He chuckled shyly. He was not very used to be complimented by anyone other than Ayla or sometimes Robb, maybe Arya.

“You think too lowly of yourself, my lord,” the Magister said. “I am a bit lost, would you take me to the Great Hall?” the Essosi asked him.

“Sure, it’s the other way.” He directed the man the right way — there was something off about this man. He seemed so insecure and his deep stare made Jon feel as though his every expression was being carefully watched.

However, his conversation was smart and his walk slow. Jon took him to the Great Hall, where they stayed for a moment, talking about swordsmanship and the history of Westeros. It seemed the man had the same passions as Jon did and, with time, the deep stare turned into an entertained expression — perhaps fondness? It was still odd to him, although less than before.

“I suppose Targaryens have become some sort of… a forbidden theme around here. With all that happened with my aunt Lyanna and the former Crown Prince.” Jon said and the Essosi man pushed his hair back, clearly uncomfortable.

“Did Lord Stark ever complain about you reading about Targaryens? Daeron, the Young Dragon, is known beyond Westeros as well. The Man Who Conquered Dorne,” the Magíster smiled softly, a bit proud to Jon’s curiosity.

“No, Lord Stark never did. Although our Maester say the Targaryen books are not well recommended, the King would very much like to make them disappear from history,” Jon said, “But Ayla always sneaked out some for me beyond studying hours.” He smiled. “Also, I do not think it could be easy to forget them when they built so many castles and ruled for so many years.” He smiled to think of her, also fearing having to face her later... to make her understand.

“Ayla?” the Magister asked, and Jon noticed a smile in the man’s face. Was he… interested in her? Jon did not know how to feel about that.

“She is a maid here, but she raised me. She helped raise Robb as well as Sansa and Arya, although Lady Stark doesn’t seem to fond of her.” Jon chuckled.

“You don’t like Lady Stark?” he asked Jon. It was when Jon realized he had talked too much, given too much away.

“No, my lord. She is my lord father’s wife. She is a good and proper lady.” Jon said, hoping much of what he said would not leave this conversation.

“You almost convinced me.” The man smiled, Jon just flushed.

Jon stayed there with the man, until Sers Addam and Ryam walked into the Hall and Jon took his leave.

It was easy to understand Alysanne’s love for her brother, in the end, he sounded far too nice for a merchant, and more pleasant than he had first assumed he was. He remembered seeing Aly near him and feeling jealousy, the thought amused him.

* * *

In every step she took, Ashara felt the cold take over her entire body while her belly lit with the fire of uncertainty and fear. She was stepping through the gates of his keep, but it felt like she was stepping into the past for the love of her life sttod a few feet away, with a frozen face, trying to take in the sights in front of him.

His eyes kept traveling from her to Ally, _‘Oh Gods, he hates me’_ , she thought, she knew. He had every right to. ‘ _But Gods, I hope he loves Allyria’_. Her baby’s dream had always been to meet her father and deep inside she knew Ned would not disappoint.

Someone she barely saw approached her and she didn’t realize she was shaking until the person offered her something to warm her up. She just shook her head and watched the scene before her: Ned offered Allyria a heavy coat and the beautiful girl just thanked him quietly. He took a step back then, while someone gave Edric one as well, who also seemed to shake with the cold.

“Welcome to Winterfell.” Ned’s sweet and strong voice said, his eyes never leaving their daughter. “It is a pleasure to have you here, Allyria,” he said with a shy smile. Ashara loved that smile.

Time had given him marks and traces, but he had not changed at all. There it was, the smile she dreamt about, the eyes that had once given her so much peace.

“Thank you, Lord Stark,” Allyria answered just as shyly. Something twisted in his face, but it was fast enough to be only noticeable for her.

“Maester Luwin, please, tend to their needs. Myra, find them rooms in the First Keep. Wyllam, ask Gage to send food to their chambers and make sure their chambers are properly heated,” he commanded with a different voice, the voice of the Lord of Winterfell.

He did not approach her, only avoiding her eyes while keeping them on Allyria. She could take his indifference, she knew she earned it, if he only looked at Ally like that forever. It did not mean her heart didn’t falter at that.

“Come along, my lady.” A handmaiden led the way and Allyria nodded and went to her side, hand in hand with Edric, then taking hers. She could feel stares from all around her. She knew they only saw a different woman, not Ashara Dayne. She was cloaked as well, but by seeing Allyria, and he had probably already seen her letter, he must have put the pieces together. She was Lady Ashara Dayne and his indifference showed it.

Ashara, Allyria, and Edric followed the old lady, and Ashara was longing for the arms of her brother so she could find comfort once again. Her body was cold, but it was the chill in her soul that really hurt — but she had made her bed, so now she ought to lie on it. 

* * *

“Father? Are you all right?” Robb arrived at his side, seeing the strangers entering their keep, following Myra.

“I…” Ned was out of words and that was not an easy feat. He was the Silent Wolf, yet he always had a proper answer.

“Father?” Robb touched his shoulder.

“Ned, Ned” His wife arrived at his side, filled with smiles, her cheeks red from the running. Catelyn never ran.

“Cat? What is it?” he asked, his mind still spiraling from the emotion he had just experienced, but somehow trying to make sense of his surroundings.

“A letter from the Reach, Ned. From Olenna Tyrell. You must open it, my love. There is only one reason for them to write us,” she said smiling to her side, at Robb.

“Whatever do you mean?” He could only think of beautiful purple eyes on a face so similar to his own, similar to Lya. Taller, older, but she was the perfect product of him and Ashara.

Ashara.

He needed to be alone now, he could not think of anything else.

“Ned, are you even listening?” Catelyn asked him, holding his hand.

“I need to be alone now, excuse me.” He left the patio, he needed the peace of the Godswood. 

* * *

He had to ask, even if it sounded mad to anyone’s ears, Jon knew what he saw, so only Alysanne could relieve him of his self-doubts about his state of mind.

He could hardly hear anything either Robb or Theon said, their voices were just distant noise and Jon could not take this doubt of his mind. He knew he had to ask, even if it was only to make a fool out of himself. He mumbled something and left, barely acknowledging the pleas he left behind.

He was on his way to the First Keep, while passing by Ayla’s chambers, he thought of her and about the matter she had to talk to him. Jon just knew she would try to persuade him to stay, but it was hard to remember his wish to leave for the Wall when he had her on his mind. Not Ayla, _her_.

He passed three chambers that seemed to be occupied. He wondered who was staying there, knowing that before the arrival of Alysanne and the Magíster, only Ayla lived there. _Odd,_ he thought.

He heard screeches and he knew it was her. He knocked on her door and it was silent only for a moment, he could hear her curse in High Valyrian. His father had wanted them to learn languages as children and Jon had chosen Valyrian, while Arya would start her lessons in Dothraki as soon as they could find her a proper teacher.

When she opened the door, it was Alysanne he saw. _Is Dany somewhere beneath? Why would she lie to me? But then again, why would she not? I am only someone she ever met in her dreams._ Something about this thought did not go well with his stomach, he hoped he meant more to her than that. Dany would be the one companion he would take with him to the Wall.

“Hi, Jon.” She smiled at him and let him pass. He looked deeply into her eyes, not breaking contact even to enter her chambers.

“ _Rytsas,”_ he answered her in High Valyrian and she seemed taken aback.

“I did not know you spoke High Valyrian,” she said, in the same language, with a perfect pronunciation. “You never mentioned it.”

“My father wanted us to learn the languages of the Known World and I chose High Valyrian. Didn’t I mention it in our dreams?” he asked her lightly, but her reaction was anything but.

“How?” she asked dumbfounded, already back on the Common Tongue.

“You were… I could see you looking like my Dany a few nights back, on our way here,” he said and she blushed. ‘ _What have I said to make her blush?_ ’ he wondered

“I didn’t mean to lie to you,” she said quietly.

“Then why did you?” He was not angry, maybe… upset? He thought they had built a real trust between them, over a moon turn of dreaming of each other.

“No one can know who I am, Jon. You must understand… It is dangerous.” She seemed sad, worried.

“I would never harm you.” He needed her to know.

“I didn’t say I was scared for me,” she mumbled.

“Whatever do you mean?” He could not understand her fear, who was she?

She took something off her arm and then she was herself. Eyes turned to lilac, hair to silver. She was the embodiment of beauty and even though Alysanne was beautiful, Dany was… something else entirely.

“Jon, have you ever heard about the exiled Targaryens?” she asked in a whisper, so he had to come closer to her to hear. The heat emanating from her was odd considering the temperature outside these walls.

“I heard the Queen escaped with child and her son beside her,” he answered and she shook her head, a look of pain crossing her beautiful features. He wanted so badly to touch her, feel the warmth for himself. He had touched her so intimately in dreams, he felt like an awful man, but he just wanted to do it now, while awake.

“No, her son died before he could cross the Narrow Sea, but she did escape with a child in her belly… me.” She then released a flood of thoughts on his mind with her confession.

_She is a Targaryen? If her brother died, then who is Magíster Lucerys? Is he even her brother at all? No, her other brother, the rapist, he had died at the Trident, under the hammer of King Robert. Being a Targaryen, had the little creatures he had seen that night been actual dragons? Who is this woman and why I am trusting her words after her earlier lies?_

“I know it is a lot to take in, I never revealed this to anyone, I would appreciate it if you could keep it to yourself. I know you might be disgusted. I know what the Mad—” she started to say in a rush.

But he had to interrupt her, so he threw caution out the window, crossed the three steps between them and took her lips in his. Her skin felt even better than their dreams had allowed them, her smell was even better and he cared not for who she was. She was his dream girl, and she was here, awake.

She had been surprised at first, but it quickly passed and her arms wrapped his shoulders, as her hand touched his hair softly. He could hear her low moan and it warmed his entire body, awakening it. Before they could deepen the kiss, he heard the screech again.

He pulled away a bit, though he was not willing to let her go entirely, holding her by the waist.

“Oh.” She looked guilty and she smiled like a child caught in mischief.

“Dany?” He needed to hear it from her before reality set in.

“There is someone I want you to meet.” She pecked his lips. Before she could take him to the corner where the noises came from, she looked deep into his eyes, she seemed to look for something in it. “You don’t hate me?” She seemed insecure.

“You know I could never hate you,” he whispered and her smile grew. “We can talk about this more later,” he promised and she nodded.

“These are my children.” She took him to the corner, where three medium sizes cages sat.

With their approach, Winterfell heard the song of dragons for the first time in over a hundred years — there had never been so much dragon blood at the castle and the little beasts seemed to feel it as they made themselves heard. 

* * *

Lyanna knew she had to be truthful to Jon, the time for lies was over, it was time to come clean. Jon was all Stark in looks: his hair was as brown as hers, his eyes were a dark grey, like a wild winter storm on his handsome long face. However, if you knew what to look for, you could find the Targaryen in him: his grey eyes were so dark sometimes that you could see a glint of indigo, just like Rhaegar’s. His body was lean and graceful, just like her dragon as well. And his temper? A perfect mix of ice and fire.

She knew that once the truth was out, Jon would see her for the first time. Actually see her, her face, her skin and eyes would be shown to him, and she feared his rejection so much.

Would he look at her the same? Would he love her the same? He loved Ned so dearly, what would it be like for him to know he had not sired him? To know that he was the product of true love, of herself and a man he had always heard of as the bad guy of a revolting badly told story.

She had to talk to Ned — she and Rhaegar wanted to speak to Jon, but she would never do that without talking to her brother, he had been so much more than a brother to her. He had been her protector. From the harm that Robert presented if he ever learnt the truth, sometimes even from herself and her dark thoughts of grief and guilt.

She looked for him everywhere in the castle, her eyes meeting Rhaegar’s when she passed through the Great Hall, she could see him speaking to Jon and she stopped for a moment and stared at her boys bonding. It did something to her insides and apparently to her eyes which were filled with the tears of all the memories they could not have.

Jon would have been raised with so much love and devotion. He would not be the next king, that would be Elia’s Aegon, but he would have been a prince. He would have lived his life waking up every morning knowing he was wanted, that he was never a mistake, and that his parents loved each other and they loved him.

She shook her head and left the room, there she was with her darkest thoughts again. She had not fully processed Rhaegar being here — if she did, Lyanna imagined she would need her sword or her horse, to do something to put out all the feelings she had inside.

However, before she could make plans of doing such, she heard the oddest sound she had ever heard in her life while passing through the Godswood. It was the cry of a man in pain, a man she had never seen cry aloud, not even with the deaths of his father and brother, Ned had cried like the Silent Wolf that he was.

Now? He was actually crying and she ran to him. She held him from behind and it was as though he recognized her, he probably did. He held on to her, as she did to him.

She just sat there, holding his back, trying to give him the comfort she had always received from him. She could not help but let the tears fall as well. She cried for Ned, she cried for Jon, she cried for Rhaegar and for Father and Brandon, whom she would always blame herself for. She cried for Elia as well and her babes. It pierced her soul.

After some time there, he stopped, and turned to her. She just waited, she knew Ned would tell her once he felt ready.

“Allyria is here, Lya. My beautiful daughter is here and I know nothing about her,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.

“But you can start to, now.” She took his face on her hand with a loving smile. “She must know it is not your fault. You would have given the world to know her from the moment she was born and you have to tell her that, Ned. You can do this now, Ned. You can meet your daughter, thank the Old Gods and the New for it,” she said and he chuckled ironically.

“The Gods certainly did nothing when I mourned the loss of a daughter that, as it turned out, lived this entire time.” He was angry, his hand was shaking and his voice was far too lo. “The Gods did nothing to stop the Mad King from burning Father or to help Brandon reach that sword and not to choke,” he continued, “They could have done something to make Ashara write me, to tell me the truth,” he spit out.

“You can’t blame the Gods for our deeds, brother. It is not exactly fair, and neither is life.” She knew he was hurt, but if he let go of his faith, what else would there be for him to hold on to?

“I guess,” he said after some time. “I wanted her, Lya. I wanted her so badly. And when Ashara told me she never even lived, I mourned her deeply,” he said quietly and Lyanna nodded, she knew he had.

“I know, Ned.” She held him once again.

“Why did Ashara do this to me? Did she resent me so much that she felt me unworthy of my own child?” His voice was hurt. “I wanted to marry her, we were going to, but before I could speak to Father, we thought you had been kidnapped and Brandon went to King’s Landing and before I knew it, half of my family was gone and I was forced into a marriage I did not want, as a consolation prize to my House and to my bride.” He had to get it out.

“I loved Ashara, after Harrenhal we exchanged letters, we made promises and plans, but out of a sudden, it was war and I had no control over my own life.” He was angry at life, at himself too.

“There was nothing you could do, Ned. You know there was not,” Lyanna insisted.

“Then why did she do it?” he asked his sister.

“Maybe you should ask her,” she suggested. 

* * *

“Why?” Ned Stark burst through the door. “Why did you hide her from me? Why didn’t you tell me about her when I last saw you at Dorne?” He was angry, but most of all, frustrated.

“I…” Ashara was out of words, Arthur was holding her hand and it gave her the strength she needed. “Artie, Lord Stark and I need to talk.” She pressed his hand, then he rose and left the room, passing through a panting Ned Stark, so unusual from his constant serious and solemn state.

“Why did you lie to me?” Ned could not bring himself to say her name. It was too painful.

“I had to. Your _friend_ ,” she said bitterly, walking around the bed she was previously sitting, “he was either killing Targaryen supporters or making them serve him. I could never serve that man; I could never bow before Cersei Lannister.” She was weeping.

“So this was all about pride?” He was mad.

“No. I admit my pride had a part in it, but it was nothing compared to me trying to protect Allyria from what I knew that came for her,” she confessed, he did not know what she meant. “Scorn, Ned. She would be scorned, who knows what Robert Baratheon would do to the woman who aided Rhaegar Targaryen? He was hiding in Dorne and I was Elia’s lady-in-waiting, it would not be hard to put it all together.” She was taken by despair, he had to understand.

“You saw what he did to Rhaenys, that poor little girl,” the sobs came out of her alongside her tears, “you saw what those monsters did to baby Aegon,” her beautiful face, oddly only more beautiful with time, was twisted in pain, “WHAT THEY DID TO MY BEST FRIEND. THEY DID NOT JUST KILL HER, THEY DID IT AFTER MAKING HER WATCH THEM DIE. THEY TORTURED HER IN EVERY WAY A WOMAN CAN BE TORTURED.” She was sobbing and shaking, forgetting all about secrecy and discretion.  

He was so angry, but he then remembered tiny bloody legs showing from the Lannister cloak. He remembered the princess’ body and that moment that would forever haunt his soul. She had been Ashara’s best friend.

So Ned the one thing he promised himself he would not do from the moment he stopped to think about the letter she sent him. He hugged her, he soothed her pain while she sobbed against his chest.

It was not romantic; it was hardly anything other than human. He knew she was right, but even then he could not get past his anger.

“You were married, I was alone. I almost died birthing her and then I got no answer to my ravens. I understood your silence, Ned: either it never reached or you never reached back,” she said against his chest, walking back from his warmth.

“Raven? I never got any raven, Ashara.” His voice was weak.

“I figured that much.” She smiled. “You would not deny her, even if you could not be mine anymore.” She looked down to her hands.

“I took care of her, it was not easy. But then Rhaegar and Lyanna reached me and I helped them get to the Tower of Joy. Willa had been helping me with Allyria, so the moment I was back at Starfall, I sent her to Lyanna,” she said, now quietly although her voice was heavy with feelings. “When I saw you arrive at Starfall, I just knew you had never heard of her.” She chuckled. “You were never a good liar.” He smiled but could not find it in him to laugh.

“I would have cared for her, Ashara.” He understood her actions, but it did not anger him less. He could have known Allyria her entire life, he could have been there for her as well.

“I know you would. You would send her presents and she would want for nothing, as she already did not. Our keep is as ancient as yours, the blood of the First Men runs through our veins as well and she got everything she needed at Starfall,” she said.

“Not a father.”

“No, not a father. But would you be able to go see her, Ned? Or would you just take her away from me?” She was feeling all the tiredness of the trip coming down on her, making sanity leave her entirely.

“You would be a provider but never a father, not because you wanted to but because you wouldn’t be able to, my love,” she said and he took a step back. She used to call him that, hearing her voice say it hurt, especially now he was not her love anymore.

“I’m sorry.” She realized her mistake.

“If you had not been in danger, would I ever know?” he asked her, his hand at the door.

“I don’t know.” She could not lie anymore.

He just opened the door and left, not looking back, just taken aback by all he had just heard. 

* * *

“You were reckless and stupid. Do you have any idea what you caused us, you spoiled child!” Lord Tywin was furious with his daughter. They could have taken hostages and it could help them force the hand of other lords in Dorne. He could have benefit from it, but no, Cersei had to act on her whims.

“It was not—“

Tywin knew what words would come out of his son’s mouth, sometimes he wondered if they were born stupid or they did it to annoy him.

“Shut up, Jaime. I know your sister very well, I know her temper and I know her ability to act without thinking,” the Lord of Casterly Rock said, giving his daughter a dirty look.

“I had to do something, he was a threat,” she defended herself, drinking another glass of wine.

“You did something, do you feel proud?” He was sick of her. “Leave.” He motioned for his kids to leave, he had to rethink the damages of their actions and how to present it to Robert, without having it falling on them.

“Father, can I—“ Jaime tried to speak, probably to make his sister’s case.

“Not now, Ser Jaime. Go and do your duty. Your King awaits your shift,” he told him off, sending him to the place where Jaime could feel properly grounded. 

* * *

Rhaegar, Oswell, and Arthur had been talking for quite some time now, after the shock had passed and Arthur assured Oswell it was Rhaegar under the disguise, the former Crown Prince took his absence and went where he knew he would find her.

He knocked on her door and she told him to come inside. Before he could speak, her lips were on his, their hands shedding their clothes, their bodies seeking refuge in each other, after years thinking they could never again.

_“Lya.”_

She could hear the moans coming from inside the chambers of her favorite person of the Winterfell household. ‘ _Who had taken Ayla’s chambers?_ ’, Arya wondered.

She wanted to practice her bow and she knew Ayla would take her on a horse ride, where they would actually spend hours practicing, Jon knew where they used to stay so he could arrive right after. Instead, she was met with moans and weird sounds coming from her chambers.

She wanted to knock, but she decided she could come back later.

 _“Lyanna.”_ She heard it again. Who was that? Was that not father’s sister that died at the Rebellion? The one he always said she reminded him so much of.

She dismissed it, running after Robb. Maybe he could take her this afternoon. Not knowing she had left behind two lovers reuniting, a love that some say torn the realm apart. The Gods seemed to think otherwise, giving them a second chance, which they took in a heartbeat. 

* * *

“Ned?” Catelyn found him at the Godswood once again. It was night and he had lost the entire afternoon and supper as well. She knew he like to go there, stay and pray for his Gods, but this time felt different, his eyes seemed differently that morning, she did not like what she saw.

“Ned?” She called once again, so he turned to her. With the little light they were allowed nearing the Hour of the Wolf, she could see he held no smile as he always did.

“What is it, my love? What happened?” She touched his face and he just shook his head.

“I am not sure how to even begin to say it,” he answered silently. But he was the Silent Wolf, he was always silent.

“Can I start? I have bad news, my love.” She hated to give him such news as she could see he was already not feeling good. He had paid her little attention regarding the Tyrell’s proposition and he seemed to be far away, further than she could reach.

“What is it? What happened?” he asked, had he stayed at the Godswood because he knew bad news were coming?

“It’s Jon. Jon Arryn,” she said. “He’s dead,” she revealed slowly, as if she was afraid to hurt him even more.

For the first time in all her life, she saw Ned cry. She did not know what else to say, so she just held him in her arms, trying to give him comfort as she did to her children whenever they seek it.

Little did she know that would be one of the last moments before the change of winds, it was no time for summer, winter was coming.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO???  
> I know we didn't have enough Jonerys and Rhaegar x Lyanna but we have to make the story move and this part was necessary, I can guarantee there will be a lot of both at chapter 8, I hope it didn't disappoint you guys.  
> I know everyone's excited for the reveal, but Lyanna couldn't possibly tell Jon without talking to Ned first and considering the astral hell Ned's going through, girl can take a hint...I promise you it's coming, bare with me a little longer. I promise!  
> I hope you guys have enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you liked more and what do you guys think is coming :)  
> As always, thank you so much for all the love and support! It feeds the muse!  
> Kudos and comments are also appreciated dearly, they help the inspiration in many ways!  
> Thanks for waiting for this chap, can't wait to hear your thoughts on it! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing will ever be the same again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii my loves!  
> How are things? I hope you guys are enjoying this fic, writing it has been so much fun! This chapter will be a bit smaller than the last ones but still 4k so I hope you guys like it.  
> This little one was beta'd by my soul sister, [Fairytalelovr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalelovr/pseuds/fairytalelovr). This woman...I just can't with her! Have you guys ever read one of her fics? Go and enjoy yourselves, thank me later.  
> Also my darlings [LustOnMyFingers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LustOnMyFingers/), [Lilgulie5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilgulie5/pseuds/lilgulie5), [Callmedewitt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeDeWitt/pseuds/CallMeDeWitt) (even though he doesn't love me enough to read it! JOKING! HAHA), [ValdeCastille](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValDeCastille/pseuds/ValDeCastille) and [NoOrdinaryLines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOrdinaryLines) that has me so excited about writing it!  
> We're building up a scenario, so be patient with our pace here, ok? I want things to make sense and not rush into bad plots.  
> Can't wait to hear your thoughts, I hope you guys like it.

Ned stood alone at the Godswood, thinking about his last days and the amount of surprises he had received all at once.

Rhaegar Targaryen was alive — her sister’s husband but also the man whose actions had cost him his father and brother, as well as bled the realm. Ned knew it was not right to put all the blame on Rhaegar, things would have exploded with time, but it was hard to forget what the Rebellion had cost him.

Allyria.

The Rebellion made him to lose his daughter, made him miss seeing her be born and become a toddler, seeing her growing up day after day and becoming the beautiful young woman he had welcomed the other afternoon.

Ashara.

The Rebellion had pushed him into a life that was never meant for him. Brandon was meant to be the Lord of Winterfell, he was meant to marry Catelyn Tully and father Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran and even baby Rickon. The truth is, Ned could never regret marrying Catelyn, they had come to love each other in time, but most of all, she gave him the greatest gifts he had in life. At such a high cost, but even so.

He knew he had to write the capital a letter with his deepest regards, but all Eddard wanted was to send Others to that damned place that killed everyone he loved. Jon Arryn was old, but not that old, and the letter Grand Maester Pycelle sent North left much unsaid, only saying that Jon Arryn had passed away in his own chambers in the middle of the night and that the capital would mourn him.

To all seven hells with the capital, they could burn for all Ned cared. He knew there was something sinister behind Jon Arryn’s death, his gut feeling told him so.

Lord Eddard Stark had also a different letter to respond: Lady Olenna Tyrell wanted to come North and invest on their wood. That was horseshit and Ned knew it — the woman was giving their ironwood way too much value, so he was left with two possibilities: she either wanted to make her precious granddaughter the next Lady Stark or she had found out about Rhaegar. Catelyn mentioned the first option while his mind focused on the second one.

He almost took a deep breath then, the thought of anyone in the realm finding out Rhaegar Targaryen lived and he was at Winterfell could only mean the worst of threats to his family.

Ned assured Catelyn he would house the Tyrells, since it seemed that Lady Olenna was so sure of her power, the lady was already in movement with all of her entourage.

Speaking of entourage, Ned was reminded of the one that had arrived only a few days before. He had not yet had the chance to speak to Allyria alone, as she either avoided him when she walked through the halls, glued to her cousin, or she would not leave her chambers at all.

He had not yet caught sight of Ashara ever since their confrontation. He resented her badly, but deep in his soul, he knew she meant well. In the end, Eddard Stark knew Ashara Dayne did what she thought was best for their girl, and Ned could not bring himself to hate her for it, how could he?

But he still wanted to hurt her, hurt her as she had hurt him. The only way he could think of doing that was denying her his presence, and trying his best to act like he didn’t care. No one knew how deeply he cared.

 _How did it all come to this?_ he asked the Old Gods. All he heard was the wind at the leafs, almost as if they answered him. 

* * *

Daenerys woke up to a screech from one of her dragons. She could hear them moving where they were kept and she wanted to beg them for another moment of sleep. However, the dragons could not be seen or heard, so she had to get them something to eat.

She felt a breath behind her neck and it was then that she realized an arm held her waist and something pointy could be found against her backside. She blushed deeply. She wanted to move but she was afraid she would wake up Jon.

Jon.

He had stayed the night and for the first time their night together happened outside of their dreams. They talked for hours, stealing kisses and touches every now and then. They fell asleep while speaking of the Night’s Watch. He told her his uncle from the order was coming to Winterfell and he had plans to go back with him.

She wanted to beg him to not go, to stay with her. Forever. But how could she? Daenerys did not know where she would be in a moon turn. It was hard for her to imagine that Rhaegar would want to part ways with his wife and Jon. Jon was his child, she was in love with her brother’s son.

 _In love? Whoever mentioned that? No one spoke of love, why am I though?_ No, she did not want to give in to such feelings. Targaryens had wed between themselves for centuries, hells, she even once heard a merchant saying that the lack of Targaryen incest was what caused the Rebellion, “Ya know if there was any dragon cunt, the prince wouldn’t have to get the Northern girl, so blame the Mad King. Or his wife.”

She remembered that she had to stop Rhaegar from ruining their disguise to beat up the man. Daenerys remembered how furious he had been to hear it, and Rhaegar never got furious. It was almost as if he had no energy left for that. Unless it was to protect her or their beloved mother.

Daenerys knew Rhaegar had always been a solemn man, but she wondered what it was like to see him smile carelessly. Mother had mentioned it was the most beautiful smile a man could give, in her opinion. Daenerys smiled and her heart ached to think of her mother.

Still, it was hard not to think of love when Jon appeared in her dreams and him on hers. It was almost as though the Gods saw fit to bring them together. Almost as if they were promised.

She felt him stir behind her and she knew he was awake. She wanted to laugh: although she was still a maid, she had lived in Essos for long enough to have seen both naked men and women and she wondered how many naked ladies had Jon seen.

Dany wanted to pretend to be asleep so he would not be further embarrassed, but she also wanted to kiss him goodbye. Daenerys was trying to give him reasons to stay, the thought of him freezing at the Wall gave her chills.

Daenerys wanted nothing more than to tell him the whole truth. Tell him who he was, who the _Magíster_ was. Would he be disgusted at her sight? Would he regret their kisses and shared nights, both sleeping and awake? Would he hate her for keeping the truth from him? Her heart ached with doubt.

“Good morning.” She decided to turn to him, they were both fully clothed and she smiled at the sight of his messy curls and sleepy eyes, double the size with fright.

“Dany, I am so sorry…” He was so embarrassed and so was she. Daenerys was embarrassed for wanting him so. Was she even allowed to? She was ashamed of lying to Jon, but also of lying to Rhaegar.

Dany ignored all thoughts and did what her heart commanded, she touched his cheek and pressed her lips against his. Nothing more than skin on skin, then why was her heart suddenly beating so fast, or her stomach in knots?

“This is a good way to wake up.” He said when she gave their faces some distance. Dany chuckled.

“I bet you will not have that at the Wall.” She teased, but having decided he could not go, she would refute it in every way she could.

“Who knows, I mean—” He joked but she kissed his lips again. “Will you always shut me up like this?” He asked her with a grin.

“Are you complaining?” She bit back a smile.

“Not really.” He said and he touched her cheek.

“How is it that our dreams gave us each other?” He let out the words they were both thinking of.

“Maybe a God given gift?” She took a guess.

“Gods don’t care about bastards.” He shook his head.

“You do not know your worth, Jon.” She said; _in more ways than one_ , she thought.

“I do not know why you are here and I will respect your wish for privacy, but I know I could never have imagined you in a thousand years.” He said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I thank you for it. I promise you it will all become clear soon. I do think life just wanted us to meet.” She shrugged and she eyed him intensely.

“I hope I get to thank whoever gave us that, then.” He said, sitting on her bed.

“Maybe you will one day, who would know?” She sat on her elbows. Her screeching dragons were no longer accepting being ignored. “I have children to feed, I guess.” She looked at her dragons, and they were restless.

He took her hand in his and kissed it, while she flushed. He could not be more of a prince had he wanted to.

She pressed his hand and he left. Leaving a happy princess at her chambers and a mysterious crow eyeing everything from the outside. When Daenerys caught a glimpse of the animal, it flew off somewhere else, leaving the little princess to her thoughts and dragons. 

* * *

“Hello, Allyria.” Ned knocked on her open door, the girl was writing something. She turned her back to the door, startled to see her father. She had been in Winterfell for a couple of days already and she had not seen him since, considering she locked herself up.

She didn’t answer, but she got up and signed for him to enter. Her eyes were full of shyness.

“Are you well settled? Can I have something brought for you…?” Ned wanted to make sure she had all she needed.

“I am well, thank you.” Her sweet, soft voice said.

“I…” After a moment of silence, he didn’t know what to do, only that he had to say something.

“You…” She joked and he smiled.

“I am not sure of what to say,” he struggled with his words, “I didn’t know about you, Allyria. I would never…” why could he not just finish a sentence?

“I know, my lord.” She smiled sadly and he hated hearing her call him that, there was another name he hoped someday she would name him.

“You can call me Ned.” None of his kids called him that, but then again they called him father. Would she ever?

“I found out about you when I was only eight name days old.” She started, grabbing a shawl and protecting herself from the cold even the warm walls of Winterfell could not keep away. “I hated you,” she laughed, Ned was confused.

“I cried for so long, I could not understand what was so wrong with me that you could not stay.” She said, the tears threatening to come, but she seemed to hold them back.

“Until mother found me, and she told you did not know about me. She told me the truth, in a way.” Allyria said, with a frown on her face, “at least the most truth you can tell a child this young.”

“I did not hate you, but I could not love you either.” Allyria bit her lip nervous, “I saw all the nights mother cried.” The tears streaming down her face, all her defenses down.

“I never meant to hurt any of you, Allyria.” He insisted, he wanted her to no know he had never rejected her.

“In my eight and nine name days old mind, you did. Did you know I did not find out she was my mom until I was six?” She chuckled. “I think that was the happiest moment of my life.” The child was taken by her emotion, her smile was so beautiful, her lips were shaped as Ashara’s, but the way she bit her lips to contain her happiness reminded him of Lyanna.

“I understood everything when I was three-and-ten. I found Mother crying, it was the name day of her death. That night she sat with me and she told me everything.” Allyria finally looked into his eyes. He felt nothing but love. His daughter did not hate him. She did not.

“She told me of Harrenhal, Lyanna and the Prince, she told me of Elia and the children, why she hid me and why she never told you about me. She told me I had siblings at Winterfell, and even a cousin.” She hugged herself.

“I finally saw the woman behind the spells and the mask, how she lost everything at once and from that day forward, we rarely spoke of you. However, my uncle bought books about the North for the library of Starfall.” She smiled and the tears were back.

“He was so good to me, he raised me like his own. He told me of my uncle Arthur, and the Kingswood Brotherhood and the Smiling Knight. She told me of his prowess with the sword, and his talents with jousting. I began training the very next day.”

She knew how to wield a sword? She jousted? Ned could not help but think of his Arya, how she would love to know all that.

“What I’m trying to say is… Thank you. For having us here, for sheltering us.” She said quietly.

“If it was up to me, you would never leave, child.” He poured out his heart the only way he knew.

She looked at him in a way that he would remember forever.

“Welcome home, Allyria.” He gave her a lilac rose from their Glass Gardens — when he saw it, it was as if the Old Gods looked upon him and sent it for Ned, only so he could welcome his daughter home.

She smelled it and smiled.

“Thank you.” Ned wanted to hug her, however knowing it might take them a while. So he just nodded and left for his solar, where he had letters to answer and a wife to talk to.

Madness. His life had turn into madness. 

* * *

Lyanna lay on Rhaegar’s chest, her fingers tracing his body, lulled to sleep by the sound of his heart. She almost felt like crying, she could breathe again.

“What is it?” His husky voice asked. It near morning and he was still half asleep.

“I missed you, more than I can put into words, but I do not want to speak of it because I want to enjoy the happiness I am feeling.” She said and her arm reached for him and held his body close to hers, he chuckled.

“We can talk of whatever you want, whenever you want.” He said, caressing her hair. “There is a good chance that you are only a dream and when I wake up, you will be gone from my arms.” His voice filled with melancholy.

“I am real,” she said and kissed his chest, “just as you are real,” she peppered kisses over his stomach and chest, marking his skin with open mouthed kisses and enjoying him trembling beneath her.

“How can I be sure?” He teased her and she bit his neck, he winced and she laughed. She loved how playful he became around her.

“I can show you we are real, love.” She said, getting up on her arms, her leg crossing his lap and sitting on his thighs. He groaned and she bit back a laugh.

“Is this real enough for you, my lord husband?” she knew how the title made him happy, it made her happy too.

“No, not enough.” He moaned when she moved her hips against his, lying herself on him, awakening the dragon.

“Lyanna.” He groaned with her teasing, she did too, with pleasure.

“One would have thought that last night was enough convincing of reality for you, Your Grace.” She grinned thinking back to the night of passion they shared. She could feel his love all over her, and she still wanted more.

“I guess I am not a believer.” He said and she chuckled again, touching his aching member already wet in her juices by her teasing only, and the leak of his pleasure. She got up on his thigh still, and pumped him a couple times, taking deep breaths out of her husband, and then guided him inside her, where both would not mind this being reality or not, it was heaven. She was made for him, and him for her.

It was easy to believe in prophecies of their love and their child when being together felt like that. The Gods had to have something to do with that.

He grabbed her by the hips, one hand with a strong grip, the other touching her waist and stomach, finding her breasts and fondling it as he knew she liked. They had been apart for fifteen years, and she was just as beautiful as she was then, maybe even more so.

She rolled her hips on his, opening her legs further, giving him a depth that made her scream. Their first time had been almost shy, but after the two others that followed, they were back to 281, their bodies entangled, souls attuned.

He brought her to him, not stopping his deep and slow thrusts, she approached his lips, while her hips danced against his. The kiss was wet and warm, easy to forget all the snow surrounding them outside. Inside her chambers, it had never been hotter.

Rhaegar was close, she could feel it, and so was she. He touched her cunt, that place he knew would take her high and pressed it, over and over, until he found just the right angle and rubbed it slightly, thrusting deep in her, their tongues almost one. Lyanna screamed his name so high, forgetting of all the souls outside these walls.

“I love you.” She murmured, almost out of breath, still out of herself, high on the pleasure taking over her entire body, the heat running up her spine and the stars behind her eyes. He thrusted a couple more times, until he reached his own pleasure.

“I love you,” he said a while later, still inside her while his seed leaked to her sheets.

“Is this real enough for you?” She smiled against his chest, with a soft smile on her lips. They had a few more hours of sleep before having to break their fast.

“It cannot get more real than this, Lya. Thank you.” He said and he came out of her, taking her to his side, cuddling behind her. He knew she was exhausted and so was he.

“Sweet dreams, Lyanna.” He whispered and she grabbed his hand, his body holding her against him behind her.

“Sweet dreams, Rhae.” She said the nickname she had for him so long ago, it awoke old feelings inside him. It was not long after that he was also taken by sleep, falling into the world of dreams that whispered mysterious words to his ears, words he would remember one day. 

* * *

“Ned?” Catelyn entered his chambers, her husband was sitting writing letters. She smiled and shook her head at the sight of him, always so dutiful.

He turned to her and his eyes were tired, she knew he had not been sleeping well, he barely arrived at their bed before leaving again. She wanted to convince him to stay for a while, rest and mayhap try for a new baby, she missed being with child and she wanted to give him as many sons and daughters that she possibly could.

“Catelyn, would you come here, please?” His tired voice called her.

“Ned, you must rest. You have barely slept in two days.” She touched his chest from behind him, but he just got up from his chair. He walked to the side of the room, looking at her intensely.

“What is it, you are scaring me.” She said.

“I have a few things we must speak of.” He said.

“Sit, please.” He said. She came to the chair in front of his, and sat. Ned was as transparent as water; it was unsettling to see him that mysterious.

“We have received a few guests the past few days,” he started, “some of which I am not yet allowed to expose to you, but I will in time.” He was confusing Catelyn.

“Who? The Essosi and the girl? Or the woman and the two children? What is going on here, Ned?” Catelyn was pure anxiety.

“Lady Ashara Dayne.” He said, and she could expect anything but that. “Her, her nephew, and her daughter.” He added.

“But she… I thought she…” Wasn’t the woman dead? Catelyn asked herself silently, hating the feeling on the pit of her stomach. She braced herself for what she imagined was coming.

“My daughter.” Ned whispered, taking the Lady of Winterfell completely by surprise, in the worst way possible.

“Whatever do you mean, Ned?” She murmured after a while.

“I didn’t know about her, but it seems that she was the girl I thought dead.” Ned said.

“When?” Her voice was harsh, distant.

“Harrenhal.” He answered quickly and she let out a breath. She could not fault him for a child he had made before he was hers, could she?

Then why did she?

“What is she doing here?” She asked him taken by anger.

“Starfall fell into Lannister hands. Tywin Lannister has gone mad and he’s been attacking Dorne, so Winterfell was the only place she thought to bring them.”

“Well, does she expect something of you?” Catelyn’s voice was cold, Ned could not blame her.

“I think she only wants to make sure Allyria is safe.” He said, Catelyn eyed him suspiciously.

“I cannot and will not ask you to have them removed from my home. But I do not want to see this woman’s face, Ned.” She said bitter.

“Cat, I can’t ask her to stay locked in a tower.” There was not much he could do about it, did she want him to imprison Ashara?

“I need… I need time, excuse me, my lord.” She said walking past him, she could not be there right now.

“Cat…” He tried calling her, but she was already gone.

He sat on his bed, not knowing what to do, so he went to the one person that would never judge him. He needed to see Lyanna. 

* * *

Jon was hoping he could catch a glimpse of Dany, it had been a day since he had last spoken to her and for the first time in the longest time, he had not dreamt of her. It scared him.

Was it because they had finally met? Was it because they ran out of chances? How could he leave for the Wall if she would not be there with him in his dreams? He was scared and he hated it. Whenever he tried talking to Daenerys, either Sansa or Jeyne surrounded her and her brother guarded her chambers like a dragon.

He was returning from Daenerys’ chambers where the princess was speaking to her brother when he heard it.

“It’s time, Ned. I need to tell him.” A female voice said. He knew that voice.

“I know.” His father’s defeated voice said.

“He will always be your son, you have to know this.” Ayla insisted.

“I know. I hope he does too.” The man said and it was all too confusing for Jon. Who were Ayla and his father speaking of?

“I hope he does not hate me, that he will listen what I have to say.” She sounded frightened.

“You did it all for love, Jon is a good kid, Lya. It will hurt him, but he will accept it because he already loves you.” Eddard Stark said, breaking Jon’s world in half.

_What were they speaking of?_

_Oh, Gods. NO._

_NO._

_NO._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So????  
> Was this different from what you guys imagined? LOL I bet it was.  
> I was gonna wait a bit longer but while writing it...It just came out. HAHA  
> Don't kill me, please.  
> Also, I left a little easter egg regarding the books, I wonder if you guys caught it :D  
> I can't wait to hear your thoughts on it!  
> Your kudos and comments are like music to my ears, pics of Emilia Clarke to my eyes.  
> Kudos and comments feed the muse, guys!  
> Also, if I can ask a little something here, if you guys read my other fic, [The Lines Of A Song](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13982445?view_full_work=true), would you guys give me a little vote [here](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScqWJpROBVuLYvCK_ojnCkkgNZXDJCIGv-kd41C9mfhnLraZA/viewform)? Thank you for all the love, this fic wouldn't have come this far without every one of you! <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Winterfell looks for Jon, feelings are exposed, truths revealed and enemies established.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii guys, how are you doing these holidays? I hope you all had a very merry christmas and I'm wishing you a happy new year! 
> 
> It's been a bit hard to read with so much family around, especially because I 'write' with dictation and some of my family knows enough English for me not want to speak how Lyanna cried over her son in front of them! LOL 
> 
> I wanna say thanks to the people that helped me with this chapter, my beautiful friend Fairytalelovr, I don't know what I would do without you, thanks for being my friend. Also, callmedewitt for keeping me sane and helping me write, same for ValdeCastille, LustOnMyFingers and Lilgulie5...My writing wouldn't have been half of what it is without you. And all of NoOrdinaryLines support and love. It means a lot to me. 
> 
> Beta'd by my beautiful Stark bae, LustOnMyFingers. Go and check out her fics, guys. she's amazing!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it, real life has been hard, but writing seems to make it all a little better. And having awesome friends and fandom too. Thanks for all the love and support you guys give me, means a lot. I hope you enjoy it, this chapter was meant to be bigger but since it was already big enough, I decided to cut in into two. Enjoy! :)

He ran, ran and ran. Jon needed to be anywhere else but there. His head was spinning and his mind was hazy.

Ayla was his mother? Why did his father call her Lya? No, not his father. It was obvious now that Eddard Stark had not sired him.

_Lya?_

There was only one possibility, but the woman was dead. She had been dead ever since the Rebellion ended. She had been dead for…15 years.

_Lyanna Stark._

Jon had the look of a Stark, he knew it was one of the reasons for Lady Stark to hate him that much, most of her children were entirely Tully, meanwhile only himself and Arya had the traces of a Stark. Was it why, then? If Ned Stark was not his father, and he was a Stark…was Lyanna Stark his mother?

_Is Lyanna Stark alive?_

Jon was sitting at the old wooden house he had found as a child. It was where he always went to feel safe. Only two people could find him here, Arya and Ayla. No, not Ayla, Lyanna. His mother.

 _Why would she not tell me she was my mother? Why would she hide it from me?_ Which led Jon the thoughts he did not wish to have…If Eddard Stark had not sired him, who had?

There were stories of how the former Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen had left his wife for another woman, Lyanna of the House Stark. He had taken her with him and hidden her at some tower in Dorne. When Ned Stark came back home, he brought only his bastard child, a wet nurse and the body of his sister. It was so clear now, Jon just felt pathetic, having never realized it before.

Ayla had cared for him all these years. It all made sense now, why a handmaiden would have her own keep, as Lyanna had the First Keep. Only a very especial person would deserve such present from Lord Stark, and it caused whispers at Winterfell, on how the woman had been his mistress and Jon, their love child.

The taste was bitter on his mouth, his hands were sweating and his head was spinning with the realization that he was the product of rape. He was the result of the moment Lyanna had been most hurt. No wonder she did not want people to know she was his mother, she probably wanted to be sure he was nothing like the man that impregnated her before voicing the words.

Jon laid his head on the hay, the old house was small but cozy, it was the only place that he felt truly alone, not marked for being a bastard. Oh, the irony. He had always wanted not to be a bastard, now he was not only a bastard, but a royal one at that.

Some thoughts did cross his mind, if she was Lyanna Stark, why did she look nothing like his fath—Eddard Stark? Where was her dark hair, grey eyes and long face?

It was too much for his head, he ignored the thoughts of being related to Daenerys, it barely crossed his hazy mind, although he wanted to go back to that morning, waking up to the sight of her, wrapped in warmth, silver hair and lilac eyes.

He wondered if that sight caused Lyanna any suffering, or if there was a chance this was all a lie, all a misunderstanding. He was just Jon Snow, she, Ayla Sand and Eddard, his real father. Jon prayed for the Gods for it, before sleep claimed him.

Never even considering that Daenerys’ brother could not be Viserys Targaryen, but someone else entirely different and relevant for him. 

* * *

It was hard to understand how her life had changed with Ned’s words. He had a bastard daughter, the girl’s mother was there. She was said to be hauntingly beautiful, although Catelyn remembered nothing but a plain and long faced woman, cold and shaking. No beauty, nothing special.

She needed answers and she needed it now. She did not know what this woman wanted here, if she was really just seeking protection or if she thought she deserved more than she got. Robb was her first born, regardless of this woman’s elder baby.

Her child would never inherit Winterfell, she was a girl and a bastard one at that. She shook her head; Catelyn did not wish to give herself to such thoughts. She was angry and hurt, she wanted to hurt someone too.

Ned had not cheated on her, he was not even promised to her when they made the child, which only shows how easy the woman was, opening her legs for a stranger at a tourney. So much for honor and grace. The girl was a product of lust, meanwhile her and Ned fell in love and their children was a product of love and duty. Honor.

Catelyn was restless, she should be asleep already but all she wanted was to make sure her husband would not approach this woman, that he would just kick them out the moment they had somewhere else to go and they would be left alone to their happy lives.

Robb was such a handsome boy, he would be as honorable as his father, and just as fair. He had the Tully look, but he was entirely a Stark at heart. Whoever married him would find a faithful and good husband, Catelyn hoped Margaery Tyrell to be this lucky lady.

Bran was her dearest boy. A mother should not have favorites, and she loved all of her children the same, but Bran was so sensitive, so brave and good she could not help it. He would become a Kingsguard one day, or a very good banner man for Robb. Bran had a brilliant future before him.

Rickon was but a babe, still crying in the middle of the night and needing to be coddled by his mother. She loved her little rebel wolf. She liked to think he was a lot like Brandon, a bit too wild but so good with the brightest smile.

Her girls were different as the sun and the moon. Arya was fire, she was a troublemaker, loved swords and bows, but terrible at being a lady—Catelyn blamed Lyanna for it. Always stimulating the young girl to train and ride horses. Catelyn hoped her maidenhead had not been broken, everyone knows horse rides can do that, but one day, Arya would have to become a lady and marry a high lord, so she hoped her girl would one day become as gracious as her sister.

Sansa had been the perfect little lady from the day she learned how to speak, mayhap from the day she was born, she was gentle, kind and so polite. She loved embroidering, singing and reading tales of Jonquil and Florian, and so many others. Her child was entirely Tully, and although many claimed she was just like Catelyn had been her age, Catelyn knew they were wrong, Sansa was even more beautiful. Her cheeks were more pronounced and her chin beautifully shaped. She was still growing into her womanly body, but Sansa was already the prettiest lady in all Seven Kingdoms, if you asked her.

The girl she saw arriving with the stranger and a boy was nothing like her children, she was wet, shaking and her dark brown hair was darker than Ned’s, but lighter than Brandon’s. Maybe this was another lie and the girl had been Brandon’s bastard.

No, Brandon would not cheat on her. He loved her, as she loved him.

It was past the hour of the wolf now, but sleep would not find her. After turning and tumbling in bed, she did the one thing she expected herself not to do.

She went out for answers. 

* * *

No one saw Jon that night, sometimes he would find himself stuck in a big book, or he had just exhausted himself with training, which caused the young man to fall asleep before he could even eat supper.

The next morning, when Arthur went out to find him, but he only found Jon’s chambers empty, the bed made and no sign of anyone having slept there that night. That was certainly odd.

He went to the yard, no Jon. To the stables, nothing as well. He searched everywhere in Winterfell and he could not find his prince. So he went to Lyanna’s chambers, he had to ask her, she knew him the most.

As he knocked on the door, he could hear two distinguished voices coming from inside. After a little time, Lyanna opened it.

“Ser Addam?” She used his fake name, in case there was someone around.

“My Queen,” he used his Kingsguard whispering voice. “I cannot seem to find Jon.” He said and Lyanna frowned.

“Is he not in his chambers? Or training with Robb? Theon? Jon would not follow him to brothels, he is not like that.”

“No, Lya.” Arthur murmured, “He is not. You know him better than anyone, where do you think he could be?” He asked her, Rhaegar then appeared at the door, he was also with a robe.

“What is it?” Rhaegar asked.

“I cannot find Jon, my King.” The knight said.

“I am no King, Arthur.” He said seriously. “We have to find him. You don’t think he…” He turned to Lyanna, in a silent desperate question.

“No, he would not leave for the Wall without saying goodbye, that is not the man I raised. Also, Benjen knows better than accepting it. He knows I’d rip his ear off his long head.” She threatened.

“Did something happen? Why would he just disappear?” Arthur asked.

“Did you…” Lyanna blushed, “did you look for him at Daenerys’ room?” Lyanna had dreamt of the two of them together for a few days now. Some days it was both at Winterfell, happy and in love, others they shared their love with many children surrounding them.

“Why would he? Is he—“Arthur was interrupted by Eddard Stark, who appeared out of nowhere.

“Lyanna, my men came to inform me Jon ran outside our walls yesterday,” He was worried, the dark circle under his eyes showed her brother had not slept properly in days.

“What happened?” She was anguished now.

“Send the guards to find him, Ser Arthur. I want my son back.” Ned said and Rhaegar flinched. In truth, Jon would always be Rhaegar’s, but he would also be Ned’s as well. The man who raised him, and Rhaegar knew he should be thankful. He was, but he was also jealous.

“On my way.” Ser Arthur left their presence, organizing for a search party for Jon. 

* * *

Catelyn knocked at Ashara’s door. The whole castle was looking for the bastard boy, but she had too much on her mind to care. He was probably just being a brat and trying to call for attention.

The woman that opened the door had nothing to do with the woman she received at Winterfell yard. This woman was around her age, her traces were delicate and she was a beauty, there was no denying. Long dark hair, purple eyes, a simple white dress but she seemed like the type of woman to leave little to the imagination.

“Lady Stark.” The woman said quietly.

“So you’re the mother of my husband’s bastard.” She said and entered the room.

“No, I’m the mother of a child that was made with love, who could not be legitimized since her father was forced to marry someone else.” She said angrily. “What do you want with me, Lady Stark. I am nowhere near your husband; I just came here to protect my children. Our castle was attacked and I would go to all seven hells before I let Allyria and Ned into Lannister hands.” Ashara said harshly, hands on her waist.

“You have no place in Winterfell.” The Riverlander told her.

“If you think your empty threats will scare me, you should think twice. I’m Dornish, my lady, I don’t scare easily.” Ashara said.

“Well, then know this, you might be here because my husband is too stupid to see through your agenda, but I see right through you.” Catelyn said.

“You don’t know me. You don’t know my family, and you don’t know what I’m capable of to protect them, my lady. If I were you I would turn around and leave me be.” Ashara approached Catelyn, purple eyes on blue.

“Are you threatening me in my own home?” The woman asked her in a rage.

“I would never, guest rights, remember?” Ashara smiled back at her, there was no trace of happiness in her smile, only menace.

“Stay away from my husband and my family.” She almost spit at Ashara.

“And you stay away from mine.” Ashara didn’t held back.

“Ash? Can I— “Ser Arthur entered her room, only to be startled to see Lady Stark speaking to his sister.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asked suspiciously.

“No, you are not, Artie. Was he, Lady Catelyn?” Ashara asked the woman, eyes glistening.

Catelyn didn’t answer, she walked past them and left the room fuming.

“What happened here, Ash?” Her brother asked.

“Catelyn Tully is being insecure. She thought her grimace could scare me. I lived around the Mad King, it takes more than a trout to scare me.” She said fiercely. “What can I do for you?” She asked him.

“We can’t find Jon.” The Kingsguard said.

“I saw him last afternoon, I was looking out the window and he went in that direction.” She showed him the way. He smiled and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you, sister.” He said and left in hurry.

* * *

“Grandmother, look what Lord Manderly had for us.” Willas gave her a letter, with the sigil of a grey wolf.

“Lord Stark found us. Good. Read it to me, my boy.” Grandmother told him, and she sat on her comfortable furry chair.

_Lady Olenna,_

_It will be a pleasure to have you here at Winterfell. We offer you bread and salt, and our guest rights. We will be expecting you and yours in the near future, safe travels._

_Lord Eddard, of House Stark, Warden of the North._

 

“Lord Stark awaits us,” she told her grandson, “call for Margaery,” she ordered to a handmaiden.

“What are you thinking, Grandma?” Willas asked her.

“The tale of a dragon beneath Winterfell.” She said.

“Yes, they say Jacaerys Velaryon and his dragon Vermax landed at Winterfell, and her beast left behind dragon eggs in the crypts. But even before that, they say there is a fire breathing dragon beneath the castle, that it’s what maintains warmth within the keep.” Willas said.

“No, my son. We might find a living one, hidden there.” She smiled.

“So we believe tales then? The Prince lived?” He asked her, intrigued.

“Not a Prince, my love. A King.” She tapped his shoulder.

“And what does Margaery have to do with that? You think she could marry him? What makes you think he will be back on the throne? What makes you think he’s a good person?” Willas didn’t want Margaery around a madman.

“I’m not planning anything; we’ll just see how it goes when we arrive.” She said.

Margaery arrived at her grandma’s chambers. She was wearing a brown furred coat, a gift from one of Lord Manderly’s granddaughters.

“You look beautiful, my darling. A perfect match for anyone with a brain.” Margaery smiled, sitting by Willas’ side. “And dragons are said to be quite smart, I was told.”

“So are wolves.” Willas answered.

“We will find you a cub, Willas. Now leave me alone for a while you two, I’ll see you for supper.” The Queen of Thorns said, and her grandchildren complied, leaving her to her thoughts and schemes. 

* * *

“Jon?” Lyanna entered the little hidden, almost broken wooden house she knew Jon had gone to.

“Are you Lyanna Stark?” He asked her bluntly, leaving no time for the woman to enter properly.

“Excuse me?” She asked.

“You heard what I said. I heard you and Fath—Lord Stark speaking of how he has not sired me.” Jon was heartbroken, he wanted to badly to be Ned’s son, the most honorable man in Westeros.

No, he was the result of a rape.

“Ned is your father too, Jon. It does not matter who put you in my belly.” She said and his eyes shone with sparkles.

“You are my mother?” He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, to run.

“Is it so awful?” Her voice was small, insecure.

It took Jon back to other times, when he was scared of the dark, and Ayla would sing him to sleep. Or when he and Robb got hurt once, and Lady Stark took care of Robb and he would have no one, until Ayla arrived and cleaned his cuts for playing in the dirt; she had always soothed his pain, warmed up his heart, Ayla had been his mother his entire life, in all but name.

“It is all I ever wanted.” He murmured, until he felt two arms surrounding him.

“I have loved you all these years, Sweetling. The only reason I never told you of who I was, was for your safety. Robert can’t ever know I live and who you are. Lord Tywin as well, he killed Elia and her babes. I could never let the same happen to you.” She caressed his hair.

“Then why do we look so different and I only look like Lord Stark?” The title was still bitter on his mouth, not for his father’s title, but because he felt he had been robbed off the right to call him ‘Father’.

“Jon, would you come outside?” She answered him with a question, it was dark inside. He nodded, he was hungry, cold, tired and his emotions were all over the place. He remembered amethyst eyes, silver hair and warmth. He missed her already, _pathetic._

The moment they came outside, Jon did not recognize the woman in front of him. She was Arya grown. She was tall, slender, beautiful and his very own mirror. Who was she? Why was…, what was happening there?

“Why do you—“ Jon did not know what to ask, or how that even made sense. How could she look different than she had her whole life?

“It was a spell. We found a Dornish maegi that cloaked us from anyone who did not know of our secret.” Lyanna said, he could not stop looking at her.

“Our?” Who else was in it?

“Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell, Ashara and me.” She said.

He was silent, wary and almost hurt that his entire life had been a lie. He wanted to be angry, to be sad, but he could not. He finally had a mother, in a way he always had but this time felt more especial. She was his in all ways.

“Was I a product of your rape?” He asked her serious and she bit back a cry.

“Why would you think that? No, Jon, you came from the purest form of love, sweetheart.” She said and hugged him strongly.

“But the Prince…” He was confused.

“Rhaegar never raped me, he loved me. We ran away together, I ran from Robert and he could never accept it. He convinced himself in love with me because I was his best friend’s sister and it was good for him. He thought I love him back for reasons I will never understand. I never even looked twice at him, he only ever made me feel uncomfortable and inappropriate.” She said, taking Jon’s hands. “Rhaegar accepted me from the beginning. He had a wife, yes, but Elia wanted to go home. She wanted their marriage dissolved, the only thing that would not change was that their children would remain theirs. Aegon would be the Crown Prince and Rhaenys, a Targaryen Princess. She was happy for us, she really was.” Lyanna started to cry with the thought of Elia, Aegon and Rhaenys.

_“Lyanna was not just the fulfillment of a prophecy. She was everything, Lord Stark. She was the love I never dreamt I was worthy of. That a damned man could ever have. Elia knew it, and she did condone it, she had the kindest of hearts and she wanted me to be happy as well.”_

Jon remembered hearing those grief-filled words from Lord Stark’s chambers.

“Is Maester Lucerys Rhaegar Targaryen?” Jon asked. He was a smart boy, never one to take too long to discover things.

“Yes, he is.” She said and Jon let go of her hands.

“I thought he had died.” He murmured.

“We all did.” She said.

“Why did he never come for me? For us?” It felt odd speaking like this, but he had to.

“He never knew we lived. We have done a pretty good job in pretending we were dead.” She shrugged.

“This is too much.” He said, fighting the tears that wanted to fall.

“I know, just please…” her tears fell freely, “Don’t shut me out.”

Jon looked up at his beautiful and highborn mother, it was hard to use said word in his context but it was true. She was his mother, there was no denying. She acted and lived as a commoner, a handmaiden for over fifteen years just so she could stay close to him. She lost everything and there seemed to be no anger in her towards him. Jon could only feel love. How could he shut her out?

“I will not do that to you, you are my mother.” He whispered, insecure.

“Oh, Jon.” She sobbed, attacking him in a mother’s embrace, and for a moment, Jon was all right. 

* * *

“I want my daughters back, Doran. I will not stand here as that monster kills my family. They might be Sand Snakes but they are children at that. I will not sit here and do nothing!” Oberyn screamed at his brother, something that did not usually happen.

“We are not standing here, brother. I have people all over Westeros looking for them, we will get them back.” Doran said calmly.

“By the time they find them it could be too late, father. We should take hostages, we should attack, or we might never see my cousins again.” Arianne said, she was just as heartbroken, the heat of a thousand suns burning in anger inside her chest.

“Are you even listening to me? I have spies all over Westeros working on this.” Doran said.

“Fuck your spies, I will go and find them myself.” Oberyn screamed.

“Shut your mouth, Oberyn. Calm down and come here, I have the information that will get your girls back.” Doran screamed for the first time that night.

“What is it?” Oberyn asked angrily.

“Tywin Lannister has them kept by Lannister guards, the Mountain has left to attack the Reach.” Doran said.

“Why would they aim for the Reach? Won’t Lord Oaf offer Tywin his Golden Rose?” Oberyn asked.

“He cannot, since his daughter was taken by the Queen of Thorns to Winterfell.” Doran smiled.

“What the fuck do they want with the Starks?” Oberyn was not understanding a word coming out of his brother’s mouth.

“Not just the Starks, Oberyn, the Targaryens.” Doran said.

“Whatever do you mean, father? The Targaryens are gone, they were killed, we heard.” Arianne recalled hearing of the big pyre in which Rhaella Targaryen had been burnt alongside her children.

“They were not, a Dragon breathes, or better…two.” Doran said.

“Viserys drowned.” Oberyn said.

“But Rhaegar Targaryen did not, he lives and breaths. A dragon beneath Winterfell, a tale as old as time.” Doran said.

“Rhaegar was killed at the Trident.” Arianne said, while Oberyn took deep breathes, calming himself.

“He wants vengeance against Tywin Lannister for Elia and the children.” Doran said, I sent him a letter this afternoon.

“Rhaegar is dead.” Oberyn finally said.

“Then we are speaking of a ghost, he will have our armies if he weds Arianne and gets the girls back.” Doran said, Arianne did not see it coming, and apparently neither did Oberyn.

“I will not trust my daughter in a mad cunt’s hands.” Oberyn was revolted. “How do you even know he is truly alive?” He asked his brother.

“I sent Areo to be sure, he sent me a raven a couple of weeks back. It is him.” He said.

“I am not waiting for Rhaegar Targaryen; I will get my daughters back.” Oberyn said revolted, and left his brother’s solar fuming with anger and grief.

* * *

“You should be using your bracelet, my princess.” Ser Oswell suggested.

“Oh.” Dany had forgotten all about it, after Rhaegar stormed into her room, desperately seeking Jon.

“I do not know where it is.” She did not have half a mind to search for it, she just wanted to close her eyes and see him again.

Or just be awake and find his embrace.

“We will find him, princess. Dragons leave their scent behind.” Oswell tried to make her smile, but she could not. Instead, she remembered.

Dragons. Scent.

She finally smiled at the man, and turned to find her sons. She gave Rhaeon, Vhagar and Laeron Jon’s fur, the one he had lent her to protect her from the cold.

 _“Will you find him for me?”_ She asked them in High Valyrian, opening their boxes. She hated that they had to be locked, so it gave her both joy and hope to see them free.

Rhaegar was sitting by her table, watching it all. He was yet to speak to Dany about Jon, but it seemed as if they shared a bond he did not know of.

Noticing her giving the dragons furs and seeing them fly outside, knowing what it meant. Dragons would be seen flying once again, he never spoke to Ned Stark about it. Soon enough it would spread through Westeros, but it was nearly nightfall and Jon was nowhere to be seen, he imagined the man wanted Jon to be found as he, himself, did.

“Princess, this is dangerous.” Ser Oswell said.

“They will find Jon, I know they will.” She said worried. Rhaegar approached her.

“You like him a lot.” He said and she flushed deeply.

“Are you mad at me?” She asked ashamed.

“Why would I be?” He looked at her lovingly. Daenerys had been the child he thought he did not have. He raised her alongside his mother, and he was proud of the beautiful and smart young woman she had become.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Daenerys said.

“You think he will accept me?” He was afraid, he knew Ned had been Jon’s father, but he would do anything to hear his son call him father.

“How can he not?” Daenerys smiled and he hugged her.

“My king, my princess…” Ser Arthur called for them, pointing out to the dragon flying north, somewhere outside the castle’s walls.

“I think they have found him.” Ser Oswell said.

“A dragon knows another.” She said proudly and Rhaegar felt his heart beating fast. Jon was the Prince Who Was Promised, he was a dragon as much as he was a wolf.

* * *

“Oh my,” Lyanna said, looking up to the sky and seeing an unforgettable sight, three fire breathing dragons flying across the sky. They seemed to aim at him, somehow Jon was not afraid, and funny enough, she was not, either.

“They were looking for me.” Jon said, it was as if he knew it deep in his soul.

“How can you know?” She asked him, he just shrugged. Lyanna smiled.

The dragons returned to their path, and Jon and Lyanna followed. He was still wrapping his mind around all the information he had received lately, but focused on the fact he had someone to call his mother, Ay—Lyanna. Jon was no longer a motherless bastard. It brought a smile to his face.

* * *

“I just want Jon home, safe.” Ned whispered to the Weirwood tree in front of him. “I do not care that I did not sire him, he is my son.” He said.

“Jon is a lucky boy.” A beautiful voice came from behind him, he turned to see his beautiful daughter, she was hugging herself from the cold. “Two fathers.”

He looked down, and she approached him, touching his hand. “I did not say this to make you feel bad.” She said softly, Ned smiled at her. She was trying to make him feel better, oh, Allyria was a good girl.

“Oh, Gods.” She exclaimed and he looked at where the girl was directing her sight.

Three dragons flying through the skies of Winterfell.

“They are beautiful.” She murmured.

“They are fierce beasts.” Ned answered, afraid of what it meant when word got out that dragons flew across the Northern sky.

“The last time Winterfell saw a dragon was when Vermax brought Jacaerys Velaryon to ask for Cregan Stark’s help.” The girl said, Ned hadn’t let go of her hand yet.

“Yes, that is true. You like history, I see.” He smiled at her.

“Mostly Northern.” She flushed.

Ned felt pride, even though she didn’t know of her, she sought to know of him, their House’s history, her house’s history.

“Queen Alysanne and King Jaehaerys came here as well, she even went as far as trying to fly over the Wall, but Silverwing would not go over it.” She said, “the Wall was built with magic.” She said a bit too excited.

“You should talk to Arya, you two will get along so well.” He said with a smile, and she let go of his hand.

“You think your true born children will want to befriend your bastard?” She asked him sadly.

“You are not my bastard, you are my daughter. I assure you they will not care.” He said, hoping Sansa would not care, knowing the rest of them would not mind at all.

She smiled at him brightly, she had dreamt of a father for so long she forgot how much she wanted to know Eddard Stark.

“Jon will still love you, he would be insane not to.” She said shyly and his heart went racing.

“Thank you, Allyria.” He said.

“You can call me Ally, if you want.” She shrugged and he wanted so badly to hug her, but felt as if it was too soon. She turned and went back from where she came.

Ned imagined for a moment what it would have been like to have married Ashara, raised Allyria, be given a Keep somewhere here and to form a family with her. He could not imagine not having Arya or Robb. All of his children, he loved them so much, it was impossible to think of never having them.

He understood Ashara, he was still too wounded to speak to her, even if he had gone near her door over a dozen times last night. He was married to Catelyn and he would always respect that vow, but seeing Ashara, he felt a warmth he hadn’t felt in fifteen years.

He heard the dragons screech and he knew what it meant. All would know of the dragons flying North, he braced himself for what was coming his way.

* * *

“Who are you?” Arya asked the girl she stumbled into.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The girl looked at her, she was beautiful. Arya had been curious about who she was for a couple of days now, she had asked mother but Lady Catelyn had only mumbled some things the little girl could not understand and left the Great Hall.

“Who are you?” She asked again.

“I’m Allyria, who are you.” Allyria asked her, imagining to know who the pretty girl was.

“I’m Arya.” She said, and looked the woman up and down.

“What a nice training sword you got there.” Allyria pointed out to the wooden sword Arya held.

“Don’t mock me.” Arya hated to be offended for liking things most girls did not.

“I am not.” The girl smiled and offered to hold it. Arya gave the girl the sword, not believing such a gracious lady would want to hold a sword.

“You know how to use it?” Allyria asked her.

“Stick ‘em with the pointy end.” Arya answered, remembering Jon’s words.

“That’s the spirit.” Allyria chuckled.

“You know how to use it?” Arya asked her suspicious.

“Mother let me start having lessons when I was eight, if I learnt to sew and dance as well.” Allyria said with a smile, “if I am being honest, I always loved dancing.” She shrugged.

“I am awful at dancing, my sister keeps telling me I was born with two left feet.” Arya said.

“Well, you should be given a better teacher then.” Allyria said.

“I prefer learning swordsmanship.” Arya noted.

“You can only improve at one if you know the other.” Allyria said, moving the sword on the air, as if fighting a fierce opponent.

“Whatever do you mean?” Arya found it quite hard to believe.

“Water dancing, the Braavosi do it beautifully. They fight whilst dancing, it is quite mortal as well.” Allyria said and Arya found herself interested.

“Do you know?” She asked the girl.

“I was taught, yes.” Allyria knew who Arya was, her sister. She had always dreamt of brothers and sisters, all she wanted was to start to get to know them. Maybe this was her chance to start.

“Can you teach me?” Arya asked her.

“It would be my pleasure.” The girl answered, shaking her hand.

It was a good way to start. 

* * *

When Jon and Lyanna appeared before their eyes, Ned, Arthur, Oswell, Rhaegar and all of the Stark guards on alert relaxed.

Until Ned noticed Lyanna and Jon’s red eyes. He knew what it meant. He looked at Rhaegar, and back at Jon.

Rhaegar knew what the Warden of the North was asking him, and he nodded back to him. He wanted more than anything to speak to Jon, to let him know he was his father and that he had dreamt of him his entire life, but given that Lord Stark raised him, he deserved the privilege.

So Rhaegar looked down and turned around, reaching for his chambers, returning for his solitude and melancholy.

Dany could see her brother’s state of spirit, but she let him be. She knew when to approach and when to let him be, now it was not the time. She called back her sons, and she smiled at the sight of Jon, feeling the relief to know he was all right.

Jon did not smile back, and for the first time since she arrived at Winterfell, she was afraid.

* * *

“She’s so nice, mother. She loves swords and I taught her a bit of water dancing, we will continue training tomorrow. Is this what having siblings feels like?” Allyria was dancing around the room, Ashara could not stop the smile from her face.

Her heart was deep in mourning, for her brother, for her home, for the love that now hated her. But the sight of her sweet girl’s shiniest smile could brighten up even her darkest nights.

“I will take Ned with me tomorrow, he has to leave his bed. I will always miss my uncle, but he would not want to see Ned like that.” Allyria touched her chest, against her heart. Ned was a brother, and her uncle had been a father. His lost hurt them deeply, but she knew he would not want them to stop living.

“Ask your uncle Arthur to train you three tomorrow, Ned will not refuse.” Ashara said.

“Oh, that is a good idea. I shall.” Allyria said, receiving help from her mother to change to her bed attire.

“You think the others will ever like me? Even Arya, when she finds out the truth.” Allyria asked her insecure.

“They could never not like you, dear.” Ashara said and kissed her cheek.

“You have to say this, you’re my mother, Lady Ashara.” She smiled, as her mother braided her hair.

* * *

Ned sat in his solar, Lyanna and Jon sat in front of him and the silence was deafening.

“Someone has to start talking so we can get somewhere here, boys.” Lyanna said, and both Jon and Ned looked up to her. She almost wanted to laugh at the sight.

“You are not my father?” Jon followed before anyone could say something else.

“I did not sire you, Jon. But you are my son.” Ned was exhausted. His strength completely drained after a week of such intense emotions.

“Why did you never tell me anything?” Jon asked.

“You could never know, Jon. You knowing risks your very existence.” Ned said.

“I could know about my mother.” Jon answered angrily.

“Lyanna raised you from day one. She hardly ever even used a wet nurse.” Ned justified himself.

“Do you know how many times I had to listen to your wife calling me a bastard thinking she was right, that I was worth anything less for being born out of wetlock?” Jon let the tears roll.

“I never saw her speak to you like this, why did you never tell me, Jon?” Lyanna was mad. She wanted to find Catelyn and gut her.

“Can we blame her? She thought I was the product of Fath—Lord Stark’s betrayal.” Jon still found a way to blame himself instead of others.

“Catelyn knew everything, Jon. From when you were five name days old.” Lyanna said.

Ned was still numbed to hear Jon stopping himself from calling Ned his father. He did not know it could hurt so bad.

“Catelyn is not important here, you are. Jon, Robert killed your siblings. I could not have the same happen to you, I am so sorry, son.” Ned wanted to hug Jon, but he was afraid he would be turned down.

“Is the Magíster my father?” Jon asked and they did not expect it.

“Why do you ask that?” Ned asked.

“Because I know about Daenerys, she…I…she told me who she was. If she is Daenerys Targaryen, he must be…” He made his conclusions and Lyanna wished Rhaegar was here for this talk.

“He is.” She answered.

“If he loved you so much and he wanted me so badly, how could he never make sure that you died? That I died?” Jon was still confused, it was too much to digest in so little time.

“I told you, son. He never knew we lived. He went to our safe haven and he only found graves.” She said.

“I’m sorry, this is too much.” Jon did not know how to handle everything, so he did not. He left their presence, running to his solitude. He needed to be alone, even if his heart wished for _her warmth._

As Jon closed his eyes, he hoped to find her there, but now it felt wrong, it felt forbidden. So for the first time in many moon turns, he did not enter Lyanna’s chambers in their dreams, he closed his door and stayed in bed, alone. Not far from him, the sound of dragons roared. As if they felt a loss too, as if they hurt as much as he did.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo??? Did you guys enjoy it?  
> I promised Jon wouldn't run to the NW, didn't I?  
> Oh, next chapter will be so damn full, you guys have no clue.  
> I know the pace seems slow but I want everything to make sense at some point, to combine plots in a way that seems fitting, you know?  
> Every detail matter here.  
> What do you guys expect for the future here? I'd love to hear your ideas! :)  
> Have a Happy New Year, Idk if I'll post til then, so have a very good end of the year! <333  
> Kudos and comments feed the muse, guys. Keep 'em coming LMAO  
> I love you all!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people are just not ready to hear the truth, some are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 2019, YAY! Happy New Year!  
> I hope this year is filled with wonderful things, a great season 8 and a deliciiious Winds of Winter for us! 
> 
> I could never have written this chapter without my handsome star, Shawn! He reads all the bad versions until we reach a decent one LOL Lustonmyfingers, she's a present 2018 gave me along with all of my fandom friends: Val, Kat, Julie and so many others. 
> 
> This chapter was beta'd by my beautiful babe, Fairytalelovr. Thanks for your help, love. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this, this one is sort of the part 1 of the next one LOL I split so it wouldn't be too big. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below, I can't wait to hear it! <3

That evening, she slept and she dreamt. She wanted to go to him, she wanted to find him and ask him what was wrong, where was his smile, but he was nowhere to be seen. Somehow, something deep inside her already knew and beautifully ignored it. Daenerys cried in her sleep for what she couldn’t have in real life.

The dragons had found Jon, so he had to have wondered about it. Jon had entered the castle so close to Lyanna, he did not… did he? No, he had been close to her his entire life. That must be the reason.

Daenerys ignored her bad feelings and the ache of rejection, turned her tears into silence, and sometime along her moments there, she left their dreams and whatever it turned to did not come back to her in the morning. 

* * *

“I am so sorry, Rhaegar. I know you wanted to be there. I did not expect to have this conversion without you around, you do know that.” Lyanna said, holding his hand as they laid in her bed.

“I know, Lya. It’s just… he will never accept me, I will always be Rhaegar, while Eddard is ‘Father’. I hate that I missed his entire life. I hate all I have missed with him.” Rhaegar held on to her hand as if it was a lifeline.

“Rhaegar, Jon only needs time. He is such a good boy; he will understand you never had a choice. Ned will always be his father, but you can be that as well. How lucky of my boy to have two fathers to care for him. You’re not taking anything away from Jon, you’re giving him.” She said and he looked up to her eyes as she spoke, still marveled with the woman he fell for, and even more marveled that she loved him back.

“Thank you.” He murmured.

“For what?” She asked him, frowning.

“For not blaming me as I do, for accepting me and loving me, for raising our son so well and lovingly, for existing, Lyanna Stark.” Rhaegar said, then kissed both of her hands, as she felt tears drop slowly.

“It’s Lyanna of Houses Targaryen and Stark, Your Grace.” She chuckled and he did too.

“Surely, how dare I forget it?” He said with a loopy smile and Lyanna could never resist it. She kissed his lips slowly, her hands taking off his tunic, enjoying the sight of him, caressing the gashes of the injury from that fated day on the Trident. He was the love of her life, the only one with the ability to set her soul on fire with his touch, as her body needed only a look, a memory, to burst. Lyanna would forever love him, she knew it with every piece of her, and somehow, she knew he loved her the same.

Lyanna kissed his scars and then his lips. Rhaegar just lay there, entranced by the woman spreading her love for him, but he needed a comfort for the heart, not the flesh, so Lyanna laid beside him, her hand caressing his chest, humming a lullaby from her childhood lulling him and herself to sleep.

Rhaegar dreamt of Jon and Daenerys, at Winterfell’s Godswood, sealing their love before the Old Gods. Jon would look at him with love, as he received Daenerys, and she would kiss his cheek as a daughter kisses a father, and Lyanna awaited for him on the front row, her ever loving smile, and Rhaegar felt peace, at last sleeping. 

* * *

Someone knocked on his door and he hoped it was not Daenerys. Jon did not know if he had it in him to deny her, he was doing his best to avoid the sight of her. However, at the same time, he hoped it was her.

It was not, as he mumbled something, he saw a smaller brunette hair coming from behind the door.

“Jon?” Arya called.

“Come here.” Jon answered, it must have been late evening or maybe even the middle of the night.

“Hi.” She said as she entered his chambers, and sat at the end of his bed.

“Did you come here at this time to tell me hi?” He asked, half amused.

“They told me you had ran away, left us. Why would you want to run from us?” Her big grey eyes were so similar to his own, full of doubt and sadness.

“I would never run from you, little sister. You know that. I just needed a time to clear my head.” He sat on the bed.

“What do you have to clear your mind of?” Arya asked. She was always a curious one, he would chuckle if he was not so upset.

“Can I tell you later? It will be a long talk and my bed is calling me.” He was not ready to tell her yet: Jon loved his siblings, it would kill him to be denied by them.

“Okay, but you have to tell me tomorrow, or I will bug you until you do, Jon.” Her young face was serious enough for it to be amusing.

“Okay.” Jon smiled and she stood from his bed, heading out the door.

“Jon,” Arya called as he was tucking himself back in bed and he turned his look at her.

“Yes?”

“Don’t run away from us. Don’t tell Robb, but you are my favorite person in the world. I don’t want to lose you.” Arya almost murmured. Jon found it hard to hold back his emotions. _I don’t want to lose you too, little sister. None of you._

“I will never run away from you, Arya. Who would mess your hair and teach you swordsmanship against your mother’s will?” He finally chuckled as did she.

“Goodnight, Jon.” She said and closed the door, after hearing his ‘ _goodnight’_ back.

Jon could not find sleep until daybreak, when, oddly enough, sleep claimed him. The entire time, Jon thought back on his moments with his brothers and sisters.

He remembered seeing Arya for the first time and how he was happy to see he had a sister with the same hair color as him. He remembered scaring them at the crypts with Robb’s help, and he remembered when Bran took him to climb a tree and show him the beautiful and white view. It was breathtaking and Jon understood why Bran loved climbing instead of sticking to the ground. 

* * *

Tywin Lannister was furious.

The Hand of the King had just left the Small Council, firmly believing to have found a proper betrothal for Joffrey in the Tyrell girl. She was said to be beautiful, which would only look good for them: the people liked a beautiful queen — not that beauty had helped Cersei very much.

Cersei was hated around the realm. However little he cared for the commoners’ and even nobles’ opinions, the city was starving and they needed money and resources. The mines of Casterly Rock were close to dry and Tywin knew the Dornish had enough money to help them out of this situation.

Plus, the realm respected a powerful ruler and nothing would give the King more power than conquering by war what the Targaryens had only managed to conquer through marriage. It was easy enough to fuck a woman with her legs open. Tywin wanted to take it, he wanted power. Not given, but conquered.

It was not his first time ruling in the name of a King and everyone knew Robert Baratheon was a loud cry from the man who had apparently killed Rhaegar at the Trident. All but Robert knew who really held the power at the Red Keep.

However, as he opened the scroll, he shouted in anger. They had counted on an union with the Tyrells so they would have enough food and support to go through war, plus the advantage of them being near Dorne.

It seemed that the old crone had taken her grandchildren North and she planned to betroth Margaery Tyrell to the heir of Winterfell. Why would they wish to join a dry land? What would Winterfell give them in return? There was nothing but snow, rocks, and wood up there.

There was something wrong in this, something he did not know. Tywin hated not knowing, so he thought he would need to be sure to find the answers to his questions, when Lord Varys came to his solar.

“My lord Hand.” The eunuch entered his solar as if he crawled, as a snake would.

“Which news do you bring me this time, Varys?” Tywin asked, looking down to the scroll about the Tyrells — he could never show weakness and he did not want to show how eager he was for an answer.

“I heard you were told of the Tyrell’s whereabouts.” Varys said it as a question, but Tywin looked up in annoyance.

“So you bring me old news.” He cocked an eyebrow.

“No, the news I have to tell you could not be more fresh, my lord. It is as cold as it can be,” Varys, always speaking in riddles, he wanted the man to be out with it.

“Say it at once, Lord Varys.” Tywin was losing his temper.

“Rhaegar Targaryen is at Winterfell.” He said smugly.

Tywin thought he heard wrong. Rhaegar had kidnapped Lyanna, Lord Eddard Stark had lost his father and brother to the actions of the Prince. It made no sense.

“Was he seen?” Tywin asked.

“No, but three dragons flew across the skies of Winterfell. People say they are not fully grown, but they are big enough to breathe fire.” Lord Varys affirmed.

Tywin took his time to digest the news. Sure, if these commoners were not delusional, there were dragons up North, but a man with Valyrian traits does not easily hide, so how could the dragons be seen and not Rhaegar?

“Thank you for your information, Lord Varys.” Tywin looked up to the eunuch.

“How should we approach the King with such news? I am sure it will upset him deeply, so we need to handle it smoothly. We would not want to upset our King.” Varys said, with a hint of amusement that showed how little he cared for the current King’s state of spirit.

“We should not, not yet. We have to find a way to handle it and once we have the solution, we can bring him the problem.” He said, his face betraying nothing of the doubts in his mind.

Roses and dragons up north. Tywin Lannister wanted answers. 

* * *

“I haven’t seen you in days.” Ned said once he reached Ashara’s open door.

“I thought you did not want to see me.” She murmured, her back to him, sitting on the bed.

“I never said that.” Ned murmured.

“Allyria said she spoke to you.” Ashara said, still turned.

“She is a lovely young girl.” He did not want to say her name, he had avoided it for years because of how it made him feel, like something he had loved and lost.

“She really is.” Ashara said.

Ned entered the chambers and approached her, he wanted to see her face as he spoke to her.

“I understand.” Ned said, receiving her wide eyes in surprise. “I haven’t forgiven you yet, mayhap I am wrong in doing that, but I cannot help hating to think of all her years I lost.” It pained him deeply, but he knew where her actions came from.

“You know I never wanted to keep the two of you apart. I was only trying to keep her safe.” Ashara looked down, but Ned held her chin up to meet his gaze.

“I know.” He said and Ashara stood silent, feeling the touch of his hand on her face. She let herself think of how their lives could have been like. She imagined Ned raising Allyria, giving her daughter more siblings to play with. She imagined lying naked in Ned’s arms, spent after lovemaking, feeling the peace of knowing her sons and daughters rested in chambers neaby, knowing they had made it, they were together and they were in love.

“I am sorry for your brother, I do not think I said it.” He took off his hand from her face, clearly affected as well.

“Thank you.” She said sadly, her head still a mess from her daydreams. “How are you doing?” She asked him, knowing Rhaegar was there and, with the attack on Dorne and Rhaegar’s return, he would have to gather his banners soon — he had always carried the world on his shoulders, she shuddered to think on how his mind must be like.

“How am I doing? You lost your brother and your home and you ask me how am I doing?” He chuckled quietly.

“Things are about to change. I cannot imagine what the weight of what is coming must be like for you.” She looked up to his weary grey eyes: she had always found peace there, even at the nights she wept for her lost family, she found peace at such sight on her dreams.

“Jon learnt the truth. I think he was hurt, upset with me. He has a new father now.” Ned’s voice was sad.

“You raised him, Ned. I do not imagine he would ever stop considering you his father, no matter how attached he gets to Rhaegar.” She said and he shook his head.

“I was only ever trying to protect him, Robert would have killed him if he knew the truth.” Ned said desperately.

“Well…” She bit back a smile. Ned seemed to realize what he said and looked up with a rare smile.

“Do not say it, please.” He said and she grinned.

“You are a good man, Ned. I know you never meant to break your promise to me, I believe you wanted to marry me, but life had different plans. I will never resent you for that. But in return, I hope you do not resent me for protecting my daughter. She was all I had left… of you. Of us.” Ashara murmured, tears coming to her.

“I really wanted to marry you. I had asked Father, I had asked Nan to sew a Stark cloak.” He passed his hand on his face, the years had passed but his handsomeness was still there. It warmed up Ashara in every possible way, and somehow that scared her.

“It does not dwell to weep over things that we will never have.” She shrugged, trying to avoid matters that would bring her to tears when she was doing everything in her power to not lose her mind. Grief, pain, longing, she avoided it all for the sake of her girl, of her nephew. For her own sake.

“You are right.” He shook his head, trying to gather his surroundings. Her presence made it hard for him to do.

A moment of silence passed between them, somehow it was not strange or even uncomfortable. Being near each other was oddly reassuring.

“Rhaegar is alive.” She whispered and he nodded. “I wish Elia was as well, I miss my friend.” She sighed.

“I am sorry for what happened to her, Ash.” He realized he had called her as he used to in their old letters.

“Thank you, she was a good woman.” She said.

“You should come out of your chambers, you are free to walk all around the castle and our lands. It is not as beautiful as Dorne—“

“Thank you. I will.” She bit back the urge to tell him she wished to avoid running into his bitter wife. She knew nothing good could come out of their meeting, given how heated it had been the last time. She did not fear the woman, not at all, but she knew the woman would not throw her anger at Ashara, but in Allyria. Ashara would not be held responsible for her actions if Catelyn Tully ever laid a finger on her daughter, or even called her anything any less than polite.

Ned walked away from her with a heavy heart, somehow his mind wandered to places it should not as well. To the life he had never had with Ashara, to the memories he never made beside her. Instead of following his way to his chambers with Catelyn, he turned the other way, looking for a place to think about the last few days and everything life had thrown at him. 

* * *

When Daenerys woke up that morning, Rhaegar was sitting at the end of her bed, his eyes lost somewhere in the past as he looked out the window.

“Rhae?” Dany asked sleepy.

“Good morning, little sister.” He looked at her with a quiet smile.

“What is it?” He never entered her chambers without knocking, not since they had stopped fearing their own shadows after years on the run back in Essos. She was afraid something must have happened to Jon, she could not stop herself from spilling out the words.

“Is Jon okay? Did something happened to him?” She asked nervous and he smiled.

“Why did you never tell me about you and Jon?” He was not angry, he just seemed sad. Rhaegar always seemed sad.

“I…I did not wish to disappoint you.” She admitted.

“Why would you disappoint me? Dany, I don’t think you are capable of doing such a thing.” He told her and her heart beat fast. Rhaegar was the only person she had left, he was her father in every way that mattered.

“You always spoke about how Targaryens should stop with incest, how it cursed our family and brought our world to ashes.” She murmured.

“Oh, Dany. I was angry, I was grieving and I wanted to blame curses and anyone else but myself for what happened to us.”  Rhaegar said and Daenerys could not see him take the blame like that.

“Rhae, you can’t carry the world on your shoulders.” Daenerys said and he grinned.

“Pott calling the kettle back.” Rhaegar said amused. “You do not have to tell me anything you do not wish to.”

“I want to.” She needed someone to talk — most of all, she needed someone to listen.

So she did, she told him how she had “ _met”_ Jon in her dreams, making sure to leave out any intimate part of their story — she was never going to get into that with Rhae. Daenerys spoke of their talks of dragons, wolves, of their lives and their likes. Dany made sure to tell him how much Jon loved Lyanna and how she had always cared for him, leaving out Jon’s love for Eddard Stark, she did not wish to make Rhaegar feel worse. After Rhaegar told her Jon knew of his true parentage, she understood Jon’s refusal of her. He probably hated her by now, but Rhaegar fiercely shook his head.

“You had dragon dreams, Dany. Not all of us do, but when we do, it matters. It matters not for one person or another, it matters for everyone. Daenys dreamt of the Doom of Valyria and Aegon dreamt of the Long Night. I never told you that, did I?” He asked her, but he could say he had not given how opened her scared eyes were.

“You told me of the Prince Who Was Promised and Azhor Ahai, of the prophecy of the three heads of the dragon and how you dreamt of Lyanna from the day you met her, how you knew she was your ice.” She said. “But you also told me you did not believe it anymore, that it all brought Westeros to war, destroying what Aegon Targaryen built.

“I did.” He said quietly. “In truth, Dany, I do not know how truthful this prophecy really is, but Aegon believed in it enough to turn six kingdoms into one, so we could be prepared when the time came. Dorne only came to us much later, but Aegon believed we had to stick together for the Great War.”

“How does that relate to me and Jon?” She asked him.

“You not only dreamt of each other, you lived it. Did I tell you what Lyanna once dreamt?” He asked her.

Before he could answer, the woman he spoke of knocked on the door.

“Daenerys?” Lyanna called and Dany invited her inside.

Lyanna opened the door with a beautiful smile, and when she saw him, it only brightened up further.

“I am sorry to disturb your moment.” She said, “but Jon wanted to speak to you, Rhaegar.” She said and it was his time to fear.

“You got this.” Dany said, grabbing his hand and holding it fiercely, giving him the confidence he needed.

“Excuse me.” He left her chambers, heading out to meet his son and the love of Daenerys life. 

* * *

“Stop it, Jon.” Theon complained pissed. Jon had beat him again at sparring and he was pissed at Jon.

“He did beat you thrice, Theon.” Arya appeared and Robb laughed. Bran and Rickon sat near them, enjoying the lessons and while Bran awaited his turn, Rickon was pleased enough to cheer for his brothers and laugh at everything he saw.

“His luck.” Theon grabbed his sword and threw it on the floor mad.

“What a sore loser, Greyjoy. I thought Ironborns were meant to be tougher than that.” Arthur mocked Theon and Robb laughed.

“Fuck off.” Theon went to sit by Bran’s side as Robb grabbed the sword.

“What do you say? Should we give them a real fight, brother?” Robb asked and something stirred in Jon’s stomach, which he ignored and nodded.

“Let’s show Theon how it’s done.”

“I could show him, I’m already better than he is.” Arya grumbled.

“He’s pissed enough he lost to Jon, if we showed him you are better than him he’d kill himself, don’t you agree, little wolf?” Ser Arthur asked amused and Arya giggled.

Jon and Robb started sparring, enjoying the cheers coming from their siblings and Ser Arthur as well as the thrill of the moment. Robb was good, really good, but Jon knew he was better. He was leaner, which made him faster, while Robb was muscles and strength, making him much stronger than Jon.

He knew he had mentioned it to his mother. _His mother._ He could hardly believe he finally could call Ayla his mother. No, not Ayla, Lyanna. Her looks had changed alongside her name, but the way she looked at him and touched his cheek was still the same. He had mentioned to Lyanna that morning he wanted to speak to Rhaegar, but he felt like he had lost his courage halfway through, so he ran to his brothers, hoping that using his sword and practicing could push away thoughts of Daenerys and Rhaegar.

The man Jon nw knew to be Ser Arthur Dayne watched them play, helping them improve with tips and showing them how to surprise their opponent, and how to fairly win a fight.

Daenerys appeared at the yard. She was no longer wearing her bracelet, her beautiful silver hair falling down her shoulders, her lilac orbs finding his from afar. She was dressed in black furs and he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Instead of hurting himself for the lack of attention, he heard Robb scream. Apparently, it was the first time Daenerys ever showed herself entirely and all of Winterfell only had eyes for her incredible beauty. Jon felt a pang of jealousy and he wanted to kiss her deeply for all to see she was his, that somehow this gorgeous girl had liked him too.

Instead, Jon helped Robb get up from the ground and he heard Robb’s whispered as to who was this beautiful girl, answering with a silent _later._ Robb nodded, returning to his sparing match, occasionally looking at Daenerys. Jon could not blame his brother, Daenerys had a beauty impossible to get used to. One could never help but be amazed at how beautiful she was every time he got to look at her.

Once again, she smiled at Jon, but this time, he smiled back. In truth, he had never stood a chance. They had much to speak of, but he wanted to reassure her that he would wait for her in their dreams tonight. Somehow he knew she understood his small action. 

* * *

Sansa saw all of her siblings gathering in the yard, even little Rickon seemed to be having a great time beside them. A beautiful silver haired girl appeared out of nowhere and it was amusing to see all of the boys try to drool at her without letting the girl know. They were failing miserably.

She noticed the girl she had seen playing with Arya and walking around her castle for the last days pass by her. She was beautiful, something about her purple eyes made her even more beautiful. Sansa did not pretend to understand who were all of these strange people at her home, but considering her father was the Warden of the North, it made sense he would receive people from all over the realm, and beyond, such as the Magíster and his sister.

The man stood with Ayla across the yard, watching the match. Sansa paid her little attention, and looked back to the girl. Something about her face was so familiar, something Sansa could not put her finger on.

The girl approached her and Sansa noticed her dress, a dark purple thick fabric that hugged her form and flowed to her feet. Sansa loved it. There were stars embroidered all over her corset and something that reminded her of a comet falling from the side of the star.

“Hello.” The stranger said.

“Hi.” Sansa had no idea who she was, Jeyne was not around to help her find out.

“I am Allyria, I love your dress.” The girl said, touching her blue gown, which Sansa had finished embroidering the day before.

“Thank you, I made it myself. Yours is beautiful as well.” Sansa said, and the girl beamed. She was really beautiful, Sansa thought. However, it was hard to imagine her to be highborn, or else they would have been properly introduced. “My name is Sansa.”

“I know, it’s a pleasure.” Something about the girl’s face made her think of Arya, so she turned to the yard and looked at her sister, that laughed at another misstep from Robb. “I made this one too. Embroidered it ‘til I was over, my mother scolded me for not sleeping, but I think she was proud when she saw it.” The girl smiled mischievously.

“Who is your mother? I take it you are not a Northerner, from your accent.” Sansa recognized a Northern accent.

“I am Lady Allyria Dayne.” It was the only thing the girl said, and Sansa’s mouth opened. She remembered hearing of the Lady Ashara Dayne, how she could be Jon’s mother.

“Ally!” Her sister screamed before Sansa could ask her further. “Come here, we can go next.” Arya called her and the girl smiled at her.

“Will you come with us?” Allyria invited her.

“Sparing? Ladies do not spar.” Sansa said outraged.

“No? I thought the North was famous for it’s Northern Lady Warriors.” The girl smiled teasingly. “Your sister spars.” She added.

“Arya is no Lady.” Sansa snorted.

“Isn’t she Lord Stark’s daughter?” Allyria asked her, walking away.

“Yes.”

“Isn’t a Lord’s daughter a lady?” She asked her.

“But…” She did not know what to say, but the girl told Arya she would return in a moment, and Sansa saw moments after the girl returning in a tunic and breeches. Still beautiful, still graceful. For the first time in her life she envied someone, to see all of her siblings enjoying their time, laughing watching Arya and the girl spar. Bran laughing and Robb and Jon cheering, as Rickon apparently cheered for the Dornish alongside a blonde boy that sat beside him.

Sansa was their sibling and the girl was a stranger, somehow, she felt like she did not belong. It ached her heart, so she left to find Jeyne, thinking on how much she wanted to be there. 

* * *

“He is good with a sword.” Daenerys commented. Rhaegar stood watching Jon from the stands, Lyanna right beside him, and he was still wearing his bracelet, while Daenerys was showing her Targaryen traits.

“Arthur made sure he would be, but he told me Jon is a natural.” Rhaegar smiled.

“He took after his father.” Lyanna smiled, Rhaegar snorted.

“I am not that good. Robert Baratheon showed me that.” Rhaegar murmured.

“You have to stop brooding, you are alive, you have a family and you are here with me, with us.” Lyanna said and Rhaegar smiled slightly.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“He will come to you in time, when he is ready. He told me he wanted to talk to you, it was my mistake to assume he meant it at that time.” Lyanna apologized, he shook his head.

“No, you simply wanted for us to speak just as much as I did.” Rhaegar said and Daenerys observed them.

Rhaegar caressed her hand and Lyanna leaned on his shoulder, her face was a pleased, happy front.

“I know Jon, he will come to you in time. And to you too, Dany.” She said, her grin showed her Lyanna knew of them, It was unsettling how well both had taken her love for her nephew.

_Love? Who said anything about love?_ She thought scared to herself. _Of course I love him, how could I not?_ Dany thought of his arms embracing her through that night, the taste of his lips, the softness of his hair, the roughness of his hands on her. _I love you, Jon. Don’t give up on me._ She prayed to all the Gods she knew as she watched Jon laugh at his brothers.  

* * *

Ned was caught by surprise once he left the library, where he had eventually fallen asleep, and heard the noise coming from the yard. He heard laughter, teasing, and screams of excitement. Once he saw it, his eyes shone.

Allyria and Arya were sparing, as Jon and Robb screamed out their cheering. Bran was imitating his sister’s movements and little Rickon was giggling as Sers Arthur and Oswell gave the girls instructions on what to do. Ned Dayne sat by and watched it all, smiling at Allyria’s success. Half the tourneys did not get such excitement. He let himself stare at the sight for a moment, before he turned his back to go and find his wife. He knew he had been avoiding her and it was not fair to her, especially not when she had taken the news so well.

When he turned, he almost knocked Ashara on the floor, falling down on top of her. He started apologizing, and as he got up the floor, he heard Catelyn’s voice.

“A rider came to tell us the Tyrells are coming.” She said and he looked up to her, terrified by the whole situation.

“Catelyn, this…” She left as he tried to explain and Ashara touched her head, that she had apparently hit on the floor.

“I am sorry, Ashara.” He got up and helped her up herself. “I will send for my Maester to take care of it.” He said and she shook her head.

“No, please. It is fine.” She seemed embarrassed. He felt embarrassed as well, even though he knew he had done nothing wrong, every place they touched tingled but his brain screamed at him for dishonoring Catelyn.

“Please, I will have Maester Luwin come and find you.” He said and left her presence, scared of what he could do if he stayed there further.

He sent for Maester Luwin to find her and he found Catelyn, beautiful and gracious, waiting for their guests.

“I saw everything.” She said before he started. Catelyn kissed his cheek and returned to her position. Ned flushed but he felt relieved that she had seen what happened, that he had done nothing to dishonor her, but somehow, his heart feared what he had felt when his body touched Ashara’s, and how it still felt.

Ned ignored everything to receive the Queen of Thorns in a green and gold carriage with their sigil all over it.

Ned straightened up and prepared himself to handle the Tyrells, knowing quite well that roses do not travel North without a reason and that their wood was not enough reason to attract such visitors. Ned knew what was happening: after Tywin Lannister’s attack on Dorne, Westeros was dividing itself in alliances. Ned wondered if the Tyrells were aware of which side they would take. Ned asked himself if he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo?  
> I know you guys wanted me to give Jon+ Rhaegar right now but believe me when I say we're getting there, there's a pace here and if we break it, it won't make proper sense...  
> I hope you guys enjoyed it, next chapter is half-ready since I split this one so it would be a million words long LOL  
> I loved writing this one but damn I'm excited about the next, if it all goes well, I will share it one of these days :D  
> Let me know what you guys thought of this one, comments and kudos really motivate us writers more than you guys know!  
> Thanks for all the love and support, means a lot to me!   
> As I said, kudos and comments feed the muse <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tyrells arrive, bringing all sorts of excitement and other schemes along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii guys!  
> I was so glad you guys enjoyed last chapter, this story means a lot to me and your reactions fuel me to write more and more and more. 
> 
> We are adding more characters and plots but I promise it will all make sense at some point, all stories will encounter at some point. I'm already working on the next chapter and I'm very excited about it. I'm sorry for my lack of answers of comments, I will answer all of last chapter's comments tonight, I've just had a few bad days with my injured arm. It's been aching a lot. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it, the convo was really emotional and overwhelming for me to write but I loved it in the end, another shoutout to my baes that inspire me to write and give me those little pushes we need when we're down, for this chapter it was my handsome star, Shawn, my love ValdeCastille (you better know there's a bit here written FOR YOU, my dear! <3), my miga do coração haha Fairytalelovr (whom beta'd this for us, thank you, love!) and NoOrdinaryLines, her excitement just makes me want to open my computer and dictate/write endlessly hahaha 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it, this one was very emotional to write! <3

The moment Olenna Tyrell comes out of her carriage, her eyes search for the ridiculous silver hair most Targaryens had. Instead of such a man, all she could see was a beautiful young girl, who seemed almost hidden behind the Starks, holding an older man’s hand and had a handmaiden by her side.

The Starks were easy to find: they awaited her on a row. Most of the children seem to bare Catelyn Tully’s auburn hair and blue eyes. The heir was a handsome and proper boy and his sister seemed more like a Southern lady rather than a Northerner.

“Lady Olenna,” Lord Stark approached and held her hand, “it is a pleasure to have you at Winterfell.”

“Thank you for having us, Lord Stark. It has been a while since the last time I saw snow.” She smiled, but it was the way all the boys turned their eyes behind her that she knew Margaery was behind her, enchanting everyone present.

“Lady Olenna.” Lady Stark bowed and Olenna nodded. The woman was still pretty but her looks meant little to nothing to Olenna: something about the her eager eyes did not let Olenna give her more attention than a simple greeting.

“This Robb, my heir,” Ned introduced. Robb kissed her hand and she noticed the boy was handsome. “Sansa, my eldest.” Something about his voice faltered, Olenna noticed.

“Aren’t you a beauty?” Olenna smiled at the blushing silly girl.

“These are Arya, Brandon, and Rickon.” Lord Stark introduced the rest of his children. The girl was a wild thing, but there was some beauty to her; her shy little brother smiled coyly; and her youngest opened a large smile.

“It is a pleasure to be here. May I present you my granddaughter Margaery and my grandson and the heir to Highgarden, Willas Tyrell.” She introduced her grandchildren.

Lord Stark received Margaery with kindness, as did his wife, with a smile of enchantment. Their son and heir could barely keep the drooling from falling — Olenna remembered when she was the one to entice such reactions of men. Willas walked slowly, to avoid falling with the support of his cane, but he was also well received, and Olenna never missed the way the red-haired girl flushed at him, especially as he kissed her hand.

“It is cold, won’t you come inside?” Lord Stark led them inside the castle and Olenna’s eyes still searched around as she directed Lord Stark quietly.

“Who is the girl?” She pointed to Daenerys with her head.

“Lady Olenna, I believe there are things to be spoken of that would be best not discussed in front of the children.” Ned Stark said and Olenna bit back a smile, that will come later.

* * *

“So Lord Stark, you must know why am I here.” Olenna started the moment she entered his solar.

“I imagine the rumors have spread already. Dragons are hard to miss.” The moment he saw the dragons fly, Ned knew it would have consequences and that questions would be asked.

“Not exactly, but you should make sure all of your staff is yours alone.” Olenna said.

“You mean I have traitors?” The Northerner seemed like a kicked wolf.

“I mean you lack security.” Olenna said. “You must know a war is coming, Lord Stark. Tywin Lannister wishes for Tyrell support, but after he acted against the Dornish, he has left us no choice. We would be the first Great House to be met with war against Dorne and, ignoring my stupid son’s anger of Oberyn Martell for my grandson’s injury, we want no war against the Dornish.” Olenna meant it, Highgarden was rich and fruitful, but richer cities have fallen.

“We have no wish for war either, Lady Olenna. However, we know it will come a point where we will be called upon the King’s orders.” Lord Stark insisted on his honor.

“It would not be House Stark’s first time fighting against a King, my lord.” Olenna knew she had to say just the right thing to get his support. Ned knew he had no other choice, but his love for his friend held him back, or for his honor, either one would have to be left aside.

“Robert Baratheon grew up beside me, he…” Ned Stark insisted.

“He is no king. Your friend grew into fat, drunk, and whoring fool that lets Tywin Lannister rule in his stead.” Olenna was putting it mildly and it seemed she had said the proper words for she had been welcomed with a pregnant pause. “Well?” She pushed him.

“What do you want me to say, Lady Olenna? What do you expect me to tell my bannermen as I call them to another war that will kill hundreds of thousands?” The vein at his forehead made an appearance as he spoke quite rudely, naught scary.

“I want you to tell me why Rhaegar Targaryen has come North and where he is.” She dared him.

“That is for him to tell, not me. I can only speak for myself.” Ned Stark had not even denied her hidden affirmation.

“Then do us both a favor and speak for yourself, asking him to come to me.” She wanted answers and to know what to do with it.

“I don’t like being manipulated, Lady Olenna. This is the North, we don’t scheme, we have more honor than that.”

“You might have, my lord. But some of your lords have already started accepting Tywin Lannister’s bidding.” Was he really that stupid? He had seemed smarter at first.

“Whatever do you mean?” So he really was, then.

“We intercepted a raven from a Lord Bolton, the man thought himself very clever using codenames any stupid little creature could understand.” His face shifted from anger to discomfort. He was not dumb, but he certainly seemed naïve.

“Silent now, are we?” Olenna asked rhetorically. “You might not like the thought of war, Lord Stark, but it is coming and it is coming fast. Westeros is on the brink of a rebellion and you will want to make sure you have the right allies for the wars to come.”

“Are you the right ally, my lady?” Ned Stark asked her in defiance.

“I should like to think myself a very pleasant ally, but if not, my hundred thousand soldiers might help our cause.” Olenna said amused.

“And what do you want in return?” He asked her.

“Now, we would not like to start this conversation without the rightful king, would we?”

Ned looked at her as if he tried to see right through her, but the woman was hard to read.

Ned opened his door and told a guard to send for the Magíster and Ayla. _Whoever was that,_ Olenna thought.

“You have two lovely daughters, Lord Stark.” Olenna began as they waited the Prince.

“Thank you, Lady Olenna.” He thanked uncomfortably.

“Are they betrothed?” Olenna was direct — they had no time for courtships of alliances.

“Sansa is two and ten and Arya is eight.” Eddard Stark answered flustered.

“Well, long engagements can help in such occasions.” She said with a smirk.

“Are you suggesting you would like one of my girls for one of your grandsons?” He asked.

“Willas is young and unmarried, and so is Loras—“ Olenna was interrupted by a strange man entering the room alongside a Dornish-looking woman, accompanied by a man in armor.

“Lady Olenna.” The shorter yet still tall man said.

“So? Where is the Prince? I would love to believe in the kindness of everyone’s heart but my old eyes have seen enough of the world to wait until I can see it.”

“Always a sharp tongue, Lady Olenna.” The man said and one of his hands grabbed a bracelet on his arm and the moment he took it off, a Targaryen appeared before her.

“Oh my, when we thought we could not get more tricks from you dragons…” Olenna laughed, amused. “It is a pleasure to see you, Prince Rhaegar.” She nodded in a reverence.

“I am no one’s prince anymore, my lady.” He said and Olenna noticed the woman beside him shifted her position, still silent and enigmatic.

“War is coming, my prince, and unless you lead us, the Seven Kingdoms might become seven again, or at least what is left of it.” She said. “I doubt it would please your ancestors very much.”

“It did not please them to lose the throne either, I think, but here we are, my lady.” The Prince answered uneasy.

“Oberyn Martell’s bastard daughters were taken, especially the one named after your Princess Elia.” She noticed Rhaegar flinched with the name. “Tywin Lannister had last invaded Sunflower Hall. The Daynes of High Hermitage fought to take the castle back, though I do not know what came out of it. Soon they might follow to Old Town and Hornhill and everything in between.” War was coming, no matter if Rhaegar Targaryen decided to join or not, whether or not he did though could help shape its end.

“I thought their strength had fallen after being kicked out of Sunspear.” Ned Stark said, seemingly quite on edge.

“No, Lord Stark. Lord Tywin knows how to make money out of sand and he got himself more soldiers, more armors, and more ships. Tell me, Lord Stark, Prince Rhaegar, is the North safe from a man on a conquering path?” She dared them.

“She is right, Ned.” The stranger said.

“And who would you be, dear?” Olenna looked at her with interest.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Lady Olenna.” The defiant girl answered.

“All in its due time, please.” Lord Stark whispered.

“If we are to enter a war together, I would like to know the faces beneath the masks of my allies.” Olenna said.

“And was any alliance already set?” She asked, more to Lord Stark than Olenna.

“Surely the prince will need support to his claim. House Tyrell will come to his service as we have before.” Olenna pointed out.

“Surely your granddaughter will come to support the Prince’s claim, not that it ever crossed your mind, right, Lady Olenna?” The daring girl spoke.

“You are quite insolent, aren’t you, girl? My granddaughter will do whatever she is told to do, she is a beautiful, witty, and dutiful girl.” Margaery’s beauty was already known throughout the kingdom and she had barely flourished. 

“I have no doubt she is, but the Prince will need no support from any other woman than his wife.” The woman continued.

“His wife?” Olenna cocked her eyebrow.

“Princess Lyanna of Houses Stark and Targaryen.” The woman changed before Olenna’s old and weary eyes. Her skin turned whiter, the hair grew longer and a darker brown, the eyes transformed from brown to grey.

_Oh my, this journey keeps getting more and more interesting._ Olenna thought.

“Targaryens have taken more than one wife before.” Olenna said, knowing full well from the moment Lyanna became reality in front of her eyes that the Prince would wed no other. He had lost a kingdom over the woman, no other would ever a chance.

“Not this Targaryen.” Lyanna said with a wolfish grin. The Prince disliked the temperature rising in Ned Stark’s wintery solar.

“I will not wed another, Lady Olenna. However, my wife would love to take your granddaughter under her protection, am I right, my Queen?” Rhaegar looked to his wife who nodded seemingly against her will.

“Is it Queen now? So, we are doing this, My King?” Olenna shifted words as well.

“It seems I do not have a choice.” Rhaegar said, weary.

“And whoever would you may be?” Olenna asked the man near the door.

“Excuse me?” He asked her.

“Since everyone here has a second face, I doubt you are a Dornish lad, are you?” Olenna asked amused, hand on her chin.

“You are mistaken, my lady. I am quite Dornish, I am Ser Arthur Dayne of King Rhaegar’s Kingsguard.” The man said and nodded to Olenna’s grin.

“Who would have thought that this trip North would be so amusing.” Olenna laughed to herself as Ned sat on his desk, trying to gather his bearings. War was coming and there was no choice to make, he knew which way the Starks would go. He could never fight against Lyanna.

“No heirs, my queen?” He heard Lady Olenna ask.

“A boy, already betrothed.” Rhaegar answered and Ned Stark thought to himself: _What is happening? Had life gone mad? Winter really is coming._  

* * *

Jon wanted to speak to Dany. However, he knew there was someone he needed to speak to before any decisions: Rhaegar Targaryen, his father.

It was odd to think of any man other than Ned Stark as his father. Jon had always felt like the odd one out since all of his siblings were so similar to their mother, except for Arya. Jon had found himself even prouder to be Lord Eddard’s son after Arya was born.

Jon had not imagined he would ever have a mother, but he had always had a father: Lord Eddard Stark, the most honorable man in all the realm. Somehow, it hurt to think of him as anything but. However, Jon knew Ned would never be just an uncle, he would always be the one who taught him how to be a man, how to be good and honored. It did not feel as though he was losing a father, but it was the gaining another one that was the strange part of it all.

He did not know how to be anything but a bastard, a Stark bastard. He was not just a wolf, he was a dragon as well. Even the thought felt wrong.

But instead of brooding over his doubts, he decided to go for answers. The Great Hall was filled with songs and dancing. The Tyrells seemed to have brought summer with them: the snows had stopped falling and after the feast there had been minstrels and dancing. Robb wouldn’t leave the Tyrell girl alone, while Theon hit on every maid around the hall. Bran and Rickon were long gone to their beds and Sansa danced with every partner worthy of her level, although she seemed to continuously stare at Willas Tyrell.

Daenerys had gone to bed as well and Jon hoped he would not bump into her on the way — he needed to make sense of things and she made him lose all of his senses. _Gods help me_ , he thought. _Give me strength to do what is right._

* * *

Robb could not keep his eyes from her. Margaery Tyrell was the embodiment of his dreams, he felt silly thinking it and he would never repeat it aloud but he could not help it.

“So how are you liking Winterfell so far?” He asked her, eyes lost in her large brown eyes.

“I find it lovely, my lord. Although I cannot feel my fingers.” She said with a chuckle.

“Are you cold? I am sure I can find you—“

“Maybe you could help me with it? Your hands certainly seem warm.” She said biting her lip.

“You mean—“

“I mean if you could help me find some proper gloves. Mayhap your sister can find me a pair.” She holding back her laughter. Robb felt foolish, he had different plans for her hands, maybe he could hold it in his, something that would bring him closer to her, avoiding his best to think of things a lady like Lady Margaery would not do.

“I am sure Sansa will gladly do so.” He answered.

“Hey, Stark. Stop trembling.” Theon passed by mocking him and Robb almost took Ice and executed him himself.

“Your friend is delightful.” Margaery said amused.

“Yeah, he is a true prince.” Robb understood her humor and joined her.

“Winterfell seems like the sort of hold to keep secrets and so much history, I would love to hear about it.” She said with a smile and Robb cursed himself for not paying more attention to all the tales of Winterfell, keeping himself interested to the battles and politics while his sister and little brothers knew the tales the bards shared.

“They say it was built by Bran, the Builder.” Robb said.

“Yes, he surely built a lot of things. The Wall, Storm’s End, Winterfell, and so many other places. What a man he must have been.” Margaery said and Robb smiled stupidly. She seemed to know her fair share about the founder of House Stark.

“He founded House Stark.” Robb spilled the one thing that came to mind.

“So we all have him to thank for it. But I must say Bael, the Bard, has always been one of the most interesting stories for me.” She added and Robb beamed. She really knew about Winterfell and their house.

“You should speak to Sansa, she knows all about it.” Robb said.

“Sansa seems a bit entertained right now.” Margaery looked to her side where his sister spoke to Margaery’s brother. The man looked like a proper lord, a decent one at that, but the thought of his little sister with a man did not please him.

“Would you care for a dance, Lady Margaery?” Robb asked and Margaery grinned.

“I would love to, my lord.” She said and rose from her seat to take his hand, being led to the where the others danced, pleased to be embraced by his strong arms, and Robb was just as please to hold her waist, having her body so close to his.

Lady Margaery had been there for less than a day and he was already smitten, remembering his mother’s words about Lady Olenna searching for a husband to her rose of Highgarden.

Robb smiled to the thought of their Glass Gardens: roses could bloom at Winterfell too. 

* * *

“Lady Olenna asked about Sansa, if she is already betrothed, if we have any interest in an alliance.” Ned commented with Catelyn as he stripped off his doublet for bed.

“You accepted, right, Ned?” His wife almost jumped at his side with the news.

“Catelyn, she’s too young.” He did not wish to betroth any of his girls yet, they were far too young, let them be children while they can.

“He is the heir to Highgarden, Ned. Only the Lannisters are richer than the Tyrells.” Cat insisted.

“I’m not thinking about money, Cat. I’m thinking about my daughter’s wellbeing.” He knew she was taught to treasure positions and power, but she also treasured the girl’s happiness, so Ned pushed his annoyance aside.

“Don’t patronize me. Do not act like I am the bad one here, you know no one wishes for Sansa’s wellbeing more than I do.” Catelyn snorted and went back to her side of bed.

“Then you know she is far too young still, she is two and ten name days old, Catelyn.” He was not wrong here, was he?

“She would be betrothed, not wed and bedded. You know I was promised to your brother just as young as she was.” Catelyn added, Brandon was always her reference of good and right. He was not jealous, it just felt as if he would never measure up to his dead brother. He knew it was not the most honorable though and it once again made him feel bad.

“If Olenna is right, a war approaches. A long betrothal in a time of war?” He justified his decision, or lack of one.

“The man is crippled, he will never fight the war.” Catelyn insisted.

“Mayhap you are right and I am just being overzealous, but Cat, it’s Sansa.” He didn’t want for her to become a woman so fast, or at least for as long as it was his decision to make.

“Sansa has been a lady since she was three. She was born to bloom in the South, Ned. She loves songs, knights, and dances. Highgarden would be the perfect place for her.” She argued and he knew she had a point, but he would not yield on that one yet.

“Highgarden will be caught up between the war. Even if we do betroth them, Sansa will stay here for the war.” Ned answered.

“Why do you not say it, Ned? Say it at once, instead of giving poor excuses.” Her voice was full of poison as she spoke.

“What do you mean, Catelyn?” He wondered as she looked at him angry.

“You want an older guy so why not your little bastard?” Her caring eyes suddenly daring.

“You will never speak of Allyria like that again, Catelyn. You know I do not mean that, I think of the good of my children, each one individually, and I most certainly do not choose one over the other. If you ever speak of her like that again, I will find myself a separate chamber.” He had already been sleeping at different places instead of his chambers for the past two nights, her words only helped him wish to find a different place to spend his third night away. He hated every time she called Jon that and after hearing how it had affected him, he could not change what Jon had to go through, but he would make sure Allyria never had to hear this word, especially from Catelyn.

“Ned, no. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me. I was just scared; I want Sansa to be happy.” The poison in her voice was gone, suddenly it became velvety, loving.

“So do I, but it is no excuse for you to treat Allyria poorly. The girl never asked to be born and I certainly never cheated on you, we spoke of it, you were promised to Brandon, and I, to no one.” He thought she was if not okay, at least not angry about that. _How could she?_ A voice said inside his mind. _You were always the slowest Stark, Brandon would know what to do right now._

“I know, I am sorry, Ned.” She approached him to kiss his face, but he was rather upset.

“We can speak of this later, I have much to do.” He gathered his insecurities, anger, and his discarded furs, leaving the room to cool off his troubled mind.

Catelyn stayed behind cursing herself and the unwanted visitors, as she considered ways to make it up to her lord husband. They had always shared rooms, and she was not about to let him sleep alone with that whore wandering around the castle. One bastard was enough.

* * *

His leg was bothering him, the cold was not helping his pain, but when Sansa told him she would be retiring to her chambers, he asked if could escort her. She was naïve and still so young, but there was something so pure in the way she looked at him, that it made him forget his flaws and disabilities.

“It is nice to have you here, my—“ Her sweet voice was disturbed by a childish whining.

“Sansa? Is that you?” The boy Willas remembered seeing earlier in the evening appeared before her, scratching sleep off his eyes, his little face anguished.

“Bran? Why are you up? It’s late already.” She hurried to him and he held on to her neck.

“I had a bad dream, I dreamt that Father had lost his head, Sansa. Jon was kissing the silver haired lady and you were being beaten, it was awful.” His childish voice devastated. “Arya switched faces and a silver haired man slayed a lion at a river. He then fled in a dragon, just like the one we saw the other day and Mother was dead.” He was crying now.

“Oh, Bran. These were just dreams, sweetling. It was all a dream.” Her voice hushing his cries, her hand caressing his head.

“No, Sansa. It was not, I saw Rickon, he was bigger but he had blue eyes, Sansa. Not like ours, blue eyes like the ones I see in my nightmares, he was hurt and bleeding just like Jory and Ser Ryam. I also fell from the Broken Tower, and the dead marched to get us. Jon, Jon was—“

“Bran, I promise you everything was just a terrible nightmare, ok?” She kissed the side of his face.

“My lord, would you mind leaving me here? I will put my brother to bed.” She said apologizing and Willas felt strange. Something about the boy’s nightmares felt odd for an eight-name-days-old to dream about.

“Not at all, Lady Sansa. Have a good evening.” He said and went back on his way, still listening to their voices.

“I’m not a baby, you don’t have to put me to sleep.” The little boy complained.

“Well, who else will keep the nightmares away?” She asked amused.

Willas went to bed right after and the nightmares caught him too. 

* * *

Rhaegar was preparing himself to go to Lyanna’s chambers — or rather the room he had shared with her every night from the moment he arrived at Winterfell — when he heard a knock on his door. As he opened it, he forgot to put his bracelet back on and the boy’s surprised face almost shocked him.

“Jon.” He whispered.

“Hi.” Surprise still showing at his young face.

“I’m sorry, if you want I can—“ Rhaegar didn’t want to scare him away.

“That’s okay, I prefer to know your real face.” Jon said quietly and Rhaegar bit back a smile, he wanted him to see his real face.

“Do you want to come inside?” He opened up the door, Jon nodded and entered.

He looked around the room, feeling eyes following him.

“Jon, I—“

“Sor—“ Both men spoke at the same time, then finally looked at one another with shy smiles.

“Sorry, you can start. I imagine you have all sorts of questions for me.

“Why?” Jon blurted, with a frown.

“Excuse me?” Rhaegar didn’t quite understood his question.

“Why did you leave your wife? Why did you leave your children? Why start a war over mo—Lyanna?” His son’s face was half anguish, half shame. Rhaegar hated himself for it.

“History knows only the winner’s side.” Rhaegar spoke quietly.

“So what is your side?” Jon sat at the feet of the bed, no anger in display.

“I was born in grief, Jon. I was born at one of the darkest episodes in our family’s history.” Rhaegar didn’t miss the way Jon shivered at his inclusion. “Most of the Targaryens died on the day I was born, amidst salt and smoke.” Rhaegar’s voice was almost a whisper at the end of his sentence.

“Salt?” Jon understood the smoke, the disaster of Summerhall was known to history as the day most of the Targaryens burnt from Aegon, the Unlikely’s attempt to bring back dragons.

“The tears of those left.” Rhaegar’s gloomy voice seemed lost in a different time. “I was always fond of reading, I would read anything within my reach. When I was really young I found a scroll, that spoke of the Long Night and the Great Enemy, the coming of the White Walkers, and what it would bring to the Known World.” Rhaegar continued. “It spoke of a prophecy, of a warrior, _a prince that was promised_.” 

“I will never forget the words: _There will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him.”_

“The ancient prophecy written thousands of years ago claimed that Azor Ahai would be born again amidst smoke and salt, to wake dragons from stone and bring back the Dawn.” Rhaegar continued.

“So you believed yourself this prince?” Jon could not understand why Rhaegar would take those words to heart.

“A woods witch had told my grandfather that he had to wed my mother and father, for the prince who was promised would be born out of their lineage.” Rhaegar could not help but think of his lovely mother and how she would suffer from every visit of his mad father. He could not help but feel guilty about it, he couldn’t help but hate himself for it.

“What made them so certain that they could trust her?” Jon asked.

“Not many know this, Jon, but Aegon, the Conqueror, had a reason to bring together the Seven Kingdoms, it was neither greed nor ego. Aegon had been told the same prophecy, and in the prophecy said that the dragon must have three heads, he understood that he and his queens had to bring the kingdoms together so that when war broke, we could fight together as one… Stronger, more organized.” He remembered the day he found Aegon’s scrolls, speaking of the prophecy he had been told. It was as if it had been the confirmation of what his young mind had already read about.

“So you thought you had to find yourself another queen as well?” Rhaegar sensed a bitterness at Jon’s words and it stung, but he smiled.

He had considered three children but never two wives, Rhaegar had never imagined he would need to wed again until he learnt Elia could not bear him children, and even then, he could not find someone to whom he wished to be attached to. 

“Oh no, Lyanna was not a plan or a prophecy. She was a glimpse of light passing by in my darkest nights. My father had grown even madder, burning commoners and nobles alike for petty reasons and silly misdeeds. My mother suffered and Elia was scared, so was Rhaenys. Elia wanted to go home, and my father had told her she had to birth me another child — given his experience in losing children, he feared Aegon was not the enough.” Rhaegar smiled bitterly, not an ounce of happiness to be found on his lips or face.

“I loved Elia as a dear friend loves another, but she and I were never in love. Our marriage was out of duty and mutual respect. Rhaenys birth had been difficult, but Aegon’s had been almost impossible. The maesters told us she would die if she ever carried a child again.”

“I paid for the Tourney of Harrenhal, me, Lord Whent, and Lord Connington made sure all of the great lords would come, so it could be as a council hidden under the pretense of a tourney, but Lord Varys warned my father and I was left once again frustrated. Until the Tourney began.” A true smile lit up his face.

“Lyanna and I met after she disguised herself as a knight to avenge the honor of her friend Howland Reed. She rode against the three knights to whom the dishonorable squires attended to. In the end of each ride, she only ever asked for them to teach them honor. My father was furious, he thought he knight wanted attention for himself, to be loved by the people far more than he had been, and asked for his head the moment Lyanna rode out from there.” Rhaegar got up from bed and he opened up his window, the moon lightening up his pale complexion and silver hair. Jon could not help but think that he looked nothing like him.

“Aerys sent me to fetch the mystery knight of the laughing tree and the moment Arthur and I arrived at the old Godswood, and I saw her panting under that forgotten tree, I knew there was no one like her.” Rhaegar looked back at Jon as he told the tale of his mother, of their love.

“So you loved her?” Jon heard It from Lyanna, but he wanted to hear it from Rhaegar. He needed to know it was true.

“I still do.” The Prince said with an anguished face, aware of what their love caused to the realm.

“So she was not just appropriate for your prophecy?” His temper got the best of Jon, if their love caused the dead of thousands, he was the product of it all.

“No, I had never even thought of the prophecy until Lyanna pointed out the fact that we were the meeting of ice and fire.” Rhaegar added.

“What about your wife? Your children? Was she aware of it all?” Jon asked.

“Elia loved Lyanna, the night I introduced them, they spoke for almost the entire night.”

“I don’t believe you.” It was hard to believe.

“Jon, I am sorry that you had to find out about me. I am sorry that Ned Stark is not your true father as you wished he was, but I am not the bad guy you were taught about. I am not perfect, I am as far from it as possible, but the moment I left the Red Keep, I believed Elia and the kids would be halfway to Dragonstone the next day — it was what I ordered. And the moment the war was over and my father overthroned, Elia would get to go home. She would raise them in Dorne, then they would return to the capital at an appropriate age, Aegon would rule and Rhaenys might have even married him.” Rhaegar poured his heart out to Jon, he did not mind what others thought of him but Jon was his son, whether he had raised him or not and his opinion mattered.

“Elia learned about you, funny, she thought you would be a boy from the day I told her.” Rhaegar added with a melancholic expression.

“She never hated me?” Lady Catelyn had hated him, so Jon always thought he had done something bad for just being born, and she had known of his true parentage most of his life. It was hard to imagine a woman like Elia Martell, who would have love him despite of it all.

“Elia wasn’t capable of hate. She was too good for that.” Rhaegar whispered, his heart ached in pain for what happened to her.

“So you wed twice?” There was no judgement at his son’s voice, only doubt.

“Targaryens had done that before. We thought of annulment but there would always be people capable of questioning Aegon’s rule if I had had the marriage annulled, even if I had made sure that their births remained legitimate.” He added.

“Lyanna would come home with me, with you. You would have been raised alongside Dany, Viserys, maybe even more children your mother and I could have had.” Rhaegar eyes were lost in a future that never was. “I had thought about it: I would build Summerhall back from scratch and you would be given a seat where you could rule next to your wife. Somehow, I think Dany would have been the one even then.” A grin played at Rhaegar’s lips as he eyed Jon lovingly.

“You know?” Jon was pure shock, had Dany told him? She trusted him this much? Did she not think he would reprehend her? Them?

“Jon, I raised Dany, men have always admired her beauty, but I had never seen my sister in love before.” Rhaegar said.

“Love.” Jon murmured.

“Don’t let your prejudices keep you from living your life, don’t let it take the one you love from you. If I had been smarter, stronger, I would have brought Elia with me to Dorne, her and the children, and left them at Sunspear. I would have slayed that fucking stag and cut him into pieces, to make sure he could never hurt anyone I loved.” A surprising anger showed at his face.  “I would have burned Tywin Lannister and his Mountain together and no one would have had to die, no one would have suffered.” He was almost out of breath when he was done.

“You could only control your actions, not the actions of those around you.” Jon oddly found himself feeling sorry for Rhaegar, somehow it did not sound fair for him to take all the blame.

“Tell that to the countless people whose deaths I caused.” Rhaegar’s broody nature seemed to be well founded.

“The Mad King caused it by killing my uncle and grandfather.” Jon had heard the story a thousand times: had it been a sane king, history would have been written with a different ink, a different tale.

“I am sorry you never got to have the life we wanted for you, Jon. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. Had I been a more selfless man, I would have let Lyanna go and she would have married Robert Baratheon, but I loved her more than any one of my prophecies or my own self. I never imagined all that would come out of our love.” Rhaegar’s eyes teary and full of regret.

“No one could.” Jon’s eyes were the same, his heart full of sorrow for all of their choices, mistakes, and everything that came of it.

Rhaegar stood silent, no longer stopping himself from crying, even though he feared ruining that special moment.

“I left Ser Jaime Lannister in charge of my family, I truly believed he could keep them safe until they went to Dragonstone. How silly of me.” Rhaegar had been over this a thousand times before. He did not think Jaime had anything to do with what happened, but he was angered that Jaime could not stop it.

“I led our armies against my cousin and as we fought, he beat me. He killed me and I was no more.” Rhaegar continued.

“I don’t know how I woke up or why, only that a servant of the Lord of Light claimed his Lord had bigger plans for me than death, and he rose me from the dead.” Rhaegar murmured. “I never told this to anyone, not even Lyanna.” Jon felt strange at his confession, as if that created some kind of bond he had been avoiding to feel.

I rushed to Dorne to find you and Lyanna, and all I found were graves. I was about to kill myself when I heard whispers of my mother having lived and of Dany. They were the only thing that kept me alive. They kept me alive until I could find you.” Rhaegar said and Jon looked down, imagining how low a man must feel to consider taking off his own life.

“Dany, Mother, and I had no expectations of ever returning to Westeros. Dany never knew about that mother and I had lost everyone we ever held dear, until Lord Tywin found us, and sent assassins to end our lives. The man only took down one of us: he killed my mother and our world crumbled once again. After she was gone, Dany hatched her dragon eggs, and as they were born, I started having dreams about you, about Lyanna.” Rhaegar carried on with his tale.

“How could you know it was me?” Jon was nothing like him.

“You are so much like Lyanna, Jon. But you have my nose, and my lips. Lya says we have a similar temperament.” He chuckled softly.

“Oh.” Jon said, looking at him trying to find himself at his— Rhaegar. He decided their nose was similar, and oddly enough, he neither hated the man nor the idea of getting to know him. It scared him. It should not be like this, should it?

“Can I ask you something, Jon?” Rhaegar asked.

“Yes.”

“Do not break her heart.” Rhaegar’s voice was fatherly and warm. “Dany is a special young woman and she has had her fair share of pain in this world.” He begged.

Jon did not know what to answer, so he just nodded.

“Rhaegar, where are you? I was wai—“ Lyanna opened the door without knocking and her eyes jumped when she saw her boys. “Oh, fuck.” She let out, always the doting lady. “I’m sorry to interrupt you.” She was blushing for once.

“No, I was about to go back to bed.” Jon blushed as well, he knew what his… what their plans must have been like.

“Thank you for listening to me.” Rhaegar said, still affected by the words exchanged between them.

“Thank you for telling me your story.” Jon said and he almost ran out of the room, avoiding Lyanna’s eyes. It was childish and almost stupid, but he was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Ayla was Lady Lyanna, his mother. Now Magíster Lucerys was Rhaegar Targaryen, his father. It was all too much without having to consider them spending their nights together, when both of them had been almost a horror story and long dead not a moon turn prior.

No, Jon wanted to sleep. He wanted to dream, to meet her there since he did not have the courage to speak to her awake — maybe he was a child after all.

* * *

Ned had not come back to bed yet, after their silly discussion earlier, he was probably roaming around the castle. When Catelyn heard the knock, she imagined for a moment it could be him, it could be Ned. Until she heard Maester Luwin’s voice and realized Ned would not need to knock to open their bedroom door.

“My lady? Maester Luwin begs urgently for an audience.” The Stark guard outside her door called.

“You told him I had left orders not to be disturbed by anyone but my lord husband?” She asked him, she did not wish to see anyone but her husband.

“Yes, my lady. He claims it’s urgent.” The voice answered.

“Send him in.” She gathered she did not have a choice, then.

“My lady, a lonely rider came at the gates with a message for your eyes only.” He delivered her a letter and she frowned when she saw the seal. _The Eyrie? Lysa hadn’t been at the Eyrie ever since she was married._ She thought.

The moment she opened it, her eyes widened. The moment she read it, she threw it at the fire.

“What is it, my lady?” The Maester asked her.

“I need to speak with my husband, Maester Luwin. Will you find him for me?” She asked the Maester, to which he nodded and left to carry his duty.

A few moments after, she was almost making a hole in the ground walking from left to right, when Ned entered their chambers.

“Catelyn, what is it?” He was clearly irritated, which she ignored. The matters were much more urgent.

“Ned, I got a letter from Lysa. She fled the capital, she took the boy and they are both hiding at the Eyrie.”

“What happened? Why is she hiding?”

“She says the Lannisters killed Jon Arryn, she says he was assassinated, and that they are coming for you next.” Her voice was apprehensive, worried.

“Robert would not hurt me.” Ned said, almost certain of his words.

“He would if they find out who are we harboring.” She said giving him a pointed look.

“Catelyn.” He exclaimed, even though he knew she was right.

Ned was certain there was no choosing now, war was coming and Westeros would bleed once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo?  
> Did you guys enjoyed the talk?  
> I kno they're a bit apart rn but I promise A LOT of Jonerys coming our way.  
> Secrets are coming out and it will be interesting to see how everyone will react.  
> Spoiler alert: four betrothals are on our way. An absurd demand and a very proper answer! :)  
> Can you guys guess?  
> I hope you guys enjoyed it, don't forget to leave comments. This needy writer totally fuels on your kudos and comments hahahaha  
> Share your thoughts and opinions with me, but please, be polite.  
> All rude comments will be deleted.  
> Here is a place for love, not hate.  
> Kudos and comments feed the muse, hate does not.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Daenerys face their feelings and House Stark receives a Royal Decree that goes against all of their plans and possibilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii guys! 
> 
> How are things? I'm excited about this chapter, it'll lead us to bigger things, your answer to last chapter warmed up my soul, thanks for being so nice and to respond so well to this fic. Your excitement excites me and makes me want to write more and more and more! So keep 'em coming! 
> 
> My beautiful beta, Fairytalelovr (go and check her fics out, she's as brilliant as a writer as she is as a beta!) helped me more than I can tell, guys. I'm forever thankful for your friendship, my love.  
> Thanks for all of my friends and their support, a shoutout to Val and Shawn, especially when I'm being insecure or just going through that asshole called writer's block LOL 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it! <3

Daenerys was back at Lyanna’s chambers. She recognized it now, she was at the place that they always met, except now Jon would not come to her. _He is not coming to meet me_ , she thought.

She took off her heavy and warm dress, laying on the bed just in her shift, holding her pillow strongly against her body, as if it somehow lessened the loneliness of his absence.

The door opened with a creek, and Daenerys got up on her forearms, looking for the source of the noise. For her great surprise, he was there, so handsome, with deep and sad grey eyes.

“I thought you would not come.” She sat on the bed and said it quietly, after a long silence.

“I cannot run from my problems forever.” He answered, closing the door and leaning against it.

“So I am a problem now, then?” His words hurt her deeply.

“No, but our situation is.” Jon said and she frowned at him.

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re my aunt.” Jon answered.

“So you know,” she had known he had, but hearing the rejection she already expected coming from him hurt even more than she had anticipated, “you really know everything.”

“Yes, and you hid it from me.” He nodded and she blushed with shame.

“It was not my secret to tell.” She whispered. “Remember when I asked you not to ask me what was that I could not tell you? That it was not my secret?” Daenerys asked him and yes, he did remember that.

“I am not angry at you.” If anything, he looked sad.

“Rhaegar does not deserve your anger, he has suffered enough in his life.” Daenerys defended her brother.

“I am not angry at him either.” Jon shot back.

“Then why are you…” He cut her sentence with his thick Northern accent.

“Life has an odd way to give us the things we want. I always wanted Ayla as a mother, so I find out that she’s not Ayla, but my mother. Now I have another father and an aunt.” Jon’s voice was nothing like the cheerful sound she heard from me until then, it almost a sad whisper. “An aunt I fell for.” He added and she shot him big surprised eyes. Lovely eyes, he thought.

“You fell for me?” She repeated his words with caution.

“Is it so hard to believe?” He asked with a croaked smile.

“It is when you keep changing your mind.” It was only his right, but it was also her right to defend her heart.

“I never changed my mind, Dany. I was just afraid.” He used the name she loved him to, it sounded different than any other voice repeating the same word, it sounded… especial.

“So you are not anymore?” Dany asked.

“Father says a man can only be brave when he is afraid.” He said and approached her slowly.

“So, are you being brave now?” She asked quietly as he walked towards her.

“Yes.” He crossed the room to her, taking her in his arms and kissing her, deeply and thoroughly — this was their dreams and nothing else mattered more than her taste, her hands touching his arms, entangling it on his neck.

“Don’t let me go.” Dany whispered trembling.

“I do not plan on being that stupid ever again.” He whispered against her lips, diving back into their kiss, finding the peace he imagined lost for the past days.

Amongst kisses and touches, they fell asleep on their dreams as well. Both were so filled with desire, it was hard to stop before they could pass the point of no return, although in truth both knew their hearts had long passed it.

As Jon woke up that morning, Daenerys was not beside him. He had been with her in dreams, not in reality, so he made sure to correct it, dressing himself with furs and his boots. He entered her chambers quietly, to the sound of her soft snoring, she was even more beautiful with her face relaxed and her defenses down.

He kissed her forehead, hardly believing such a woman would want him, but the words exchanged between them and their touches from the night before had proved him wrong. Before he could lay beside her, he heard them.

The screeches came in different tones but were all a distraction to his mind. He approached the little beasts on their cages, marveled by the sight before him. He had seen the dragons before, but oddly enough they seemed bigger, how he could not say.

Jon thought back to his childhood when he dreamt of being Daeron, the Young Dragon, or when he thought about the amount of times that he, Robb and Arya had played of being Aegon, the Conqueror. Aemon, the Dragonknight and all of his Targaryen heroes.

He had come from them just as much as he had come from the Kings of Winter, it was a thought that kept replaying on his head. Lord Stark was not his sire, although he would always be his father. His mother was no tavern wench, she was a Stark and a living one at that.

He was taken by so many emotions at once, that he was taken by surprise when the cream and golden dragon screech directly at him, and his eyes were pools of molten gold more expressive than any richness could be.

Jon approached the beast with caution. He found himself touching his snout, enjoying the warmth he felt emanating from the animal, and the way his heart felt whole around him, the little dragon almost purred, then a laughter can be heard from behind him.

She was the most beautiful woman in the world, Jon had no doubt about it.

“I never heard Vhagar purr like that, he is a dragon, not a cat.” She chuckled and he smiled back. She approached him and touched the black one, he was bigger and his noises were rougher and louder.

“This is Rhaeon.” She said, and pointed to the green and bronze brother. “That is Laeron, I think Rhaegar will ride him one day, he seems quite attached to my brother.” She touched the smallest one’s tail, the only one lying down, his expression calm.

“What do their names mean?” Jon asked her, feeling his dragon blood screams for hers. He approached her in an embrace, and the girl melted within his arms, her face laying on his chest, her arms holding his body to hers.

“Rhaeon was named after my mother, Rhaella.” Dany whispered against him, loud enough for Jon to hear. “Laeron was named after Rhaegar’s family, he named him after Lyanna, Aegon, Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon, I guess they were not creative on that one. But in his defense, that is our family’s most prestigious name.” She defended him fiercely and Jon laughed. He did not expect himself to, but he did.

“I guess creativity was not one of the Targaryens most important traces.” He chuckled and she did too. She distanced herself from him to stare into his eyes.

“He has loved you all along, Jon. Even when he did not know you and Lyanna lived. The Gods only know the amount of times I was awakened by Rhaegar’s screams and cries.” She whispered sadly.

“I don’t know what to say.” He really did not, he was no longer angry at the man who sired him but he still thought of Elia and his siblings with a certain amount of guilt. Knowing Rhaegar felt it too made Jon pity for him, imagine living a life in which you blame yourself for your family’s demise. Jon could never picture himself in such a situation, the pain was too much.

“I think Ay—Lyanna still loves him. I never see her smile as much as she has since he arrived.” He said and Daenerys smiled sincerely.

“I know he does. After years apart, they deserve to be happy.” Daenerys said, Jon nodded.

Vhagar screeched and both Targaryens looked at him amused, he tried to call for their attention, and Rhaeon puffed him a little smoke. The little dragons’ games entertaining them both, that stayed like that for a while, watching the animals interact as they interacted with their lips and souls.

* * *

That night, Ser Jaime dreamt of wildfire. He could not stop Aerys and his pyromancers, he had burnt along with the half million souls harbored in King’s Landing. Aerys had turned into a dragon and flown away to the distance.

He could see Elia screaming, her eyes accusing him of hers and her children’s demise. He could see flesh melting, hairs burning, the foul smell surrounding him suffocated Jaime in a way that he had never felt before.

Someone held on to his hand and suddenly he was elsewhere. He could see the dragon skulls around the Throne Room but Aerys was nowhere around him. Instead, he saw two figures walking his way.

One he would hardly remember if his sister did not look so much like her. Joanna Lannister, in all her grace and sweetness, walked hand in hand with Queen Rhaella, looking more beautiful than ever, no scar or bruises showing on her beautiful face, her silver white hair falling around her like a halo.

“Jaime.” His mother said and touched his face. Rhaella Targaryen stood behind her friend, with eyes full of wisdom and love.

“You need to stop this madness, Jaime. You are not like Tywin; you must not let him turn you as he turned Cersei. You two shared a womb, but your heart is mine and hers is his.” Joanna Lannister’s voice was so similar to his sister’s that it almost seemed like someone was playing a joke on him.

“Tywin and Aerys had once been two good friends, both good men, both full of hopes and dreams, but time and life have turned them into bitter, resentful and greedy creatures, nothing like their younger selves.” Queen Rhaella said.

“Whatever was good in Tywin died with me, Jaime.” Joanna’s voice was sad.

“You saved the world of the monstrosity that Aerys had become. Never doubt yourself over this, son. Wear your title like a badge of honor. Not many Kingslayers can claim to have saved as many souls as you have, Jaime.” The Queen added and he wanted to cry. Those were all the words he wanted to hear, coming from two of the best people he had ever known.

“You have been so good and kind to your brother, if not for you and Gerion, who would have loved Tyrion?” Her soft voice was a balm to his wounded soul.

“Cersei…” He wanted to tell his mother that his sister also cared, even though she did not, he wanted mother to be proud of them both.

“Hates him. You cannot save your sister more than you can save me, Sweetling.” Joanna’s voice was half pain, half compassion.

“Why are you here? I don’t deserve this. I deserve none of this praising and love. I am an Oathbreaker, a man without honor.” He repeated the words he was already used to hear.

“Because war is coming, and nothing is as it seems.” Joanna said.

“Rhaegar will need you beside him, Jaime. He will need his Kingsguard.” Rhaella’s voice was warm. “Daenerys will need you, Aegon will need you. Your Queen will need you as well.”

“My Queen, you are dead. What can I do for you now that I could not do before? Aegon is dead, I failed him as I failed Rhaenys and Elia.” He felt the tears roll. He wept when he was told the Queen had died, she was a good woman and she deserved none that she got.

“Aegon and Rhaenys lie with me, Ser Jaime. I care for them as Elia does. But it is Lyanna and her Aegon that will need you this time. Do not fail them, Ser. Rhaegar is your King and Lyanna, your Queen.” Rhaella’s voice was a mere whisper as her figure dissolved in air, leaving him with only echoes of longing and love.

Lyanna? Aegon?

Jaime woke up to find Cersei dressing up to leave his side, before they could get caught.

“Cersei?” He called her, he needed to look into her eyes and to find his ground inside them.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Go back to sleep.” She answered without looking back, disappearing behind his door back into her darkness and so out of his reach.

What in the Seven Hells had he dreamt of? Lyanna Stark? Aegon Targaryen? He feared sleeping and finding more ghosts of his past. Not all of them would be as kind, not that he deserved any of that.

* * *

“Why did you tell Lady Olenna that Jon was betrothed?” Lyanna asked amused, as she laid on his chest.

“Jon and Dany are meant to be, Lya. They were made for one another just as I was made for you, and you for me.” His always mysterious and rough voice spoke.

“You Targaryens and your odd ways.” She jested and he smiled, he knew she had nothing against it, but Rhaegar also knew incest could be odd to all of those outside of his family.

“She wants to wed one of theirs to one of ours.” He affirmed and Lyanna nodded against him.

“Yes, but this one is taken.” She kissed his chest and he brought her even closer to him, feeling himself going hard again.

“Yes, she was also disappointed with that. I think your She-Wolf ways scared the fierce Queen of Thorns.” He chuckled and she touched him softly, causing the prince to fasten his breath.

“Direwolves paws do not break under thorns, but we can destroy most of flowers, when handled without patience.” Lyanna whispered and he took her chin to lift her up to his lips.

“I love your fire, Lya. You might be of ice but everything about you burn my insides.” He whispered and Lyanna smiled.

“Ice burns are more dangerous; we numb then kill.” She said, and he shook his head.

“Nothing about you numbs me, my queen. You bring me alive.” He said, causing Lyanna to rise, sitting on his lap. He rose with her glued to him and not soon after both were left panting and moaning with pleasure, trying to run from the thoughts of the upcoming war. After so long apart, both left the future for tomorrow, enjoying the present while they could.

* * *

Tywin was smart, the Lord of Lannister had been gifted with a cunning that most men lacked. He needed a reason to start a war, and the proper allies. He wanted the Tyrells just as much as he wanted the Dornish.

After Elia and her children, he was sure he would never have their support, so he had decided to weaken their forces, though he had not expected them to resist as they had.

They were quickly losing the castles they had conquered and now with news of Rhaegar being alive, it could all take a turn for the worse soon. So he needed the Tyrells.

The old crone had taken her most precious grandchildren North with her, so she must have known about Rhaegar — either she would wed her little whore to the Prince or the Stark heir. Tywin was aware the Starks had two girls to wed and Willas Tyrell would most likely marry one of them.

So he needed a distraction. A reason to create mayhem between the Iron Throne and the Reach, one that did not involve Dorne as the Lannister fleet continued to assault.

It was of common knowledge how the King and his beloved friend Lord Eddard Stark had ended their friendship after the deaths of the Targaryen children, so which cause would bring them together sooner and easier than a wedding? Or two, for that matter.

The Starks carried the support of the Riverlands and the Vale, especially now with Jon Arryn being dead and his wife being sister to the Tully woman. If they wed their heir to the little rose of Highgarden and their girl to the heir to the Reach, their power would grow further enough that it would become a threat, and Tywin handled his threats as he handled his children: mending it while they were young so they would not grow into bigger problems.

All it took was a mention to the King that Lord Eddard was searching for a bride to his heir and a groom to his beautiful girl. Robert had the letter penned that very moment, amidst wine and that foul smell that emanated from him.

Robb Stark would bring Myrcella under his protection, and Sansa Stark would one day bear Joffrey’s children, by royal decree. Tywin made sure the words ‘royal decree’ had been written: he would not want Ned Stark to believe that he had a choice.

And just like that, Tywin Lannister thought with a smile, _now it begins._

* * *

“Edric? What are you doing here, my love? Allyria was looking for you.” Ashara saw her nephew looking at the rest of the children outside the window. Ever since they had arrived, Little Ned had played once or twice with the others but every time he seemed to be starting to move on, he went back into hiding, breaking Ashara’s heart.

She wanted to take care of him as her brother had taken care of her girl, but she did not know how. Ever since the Tyrells had arrived, a joy was felt around Winterfell that it had not before. It had been over a week now and she had been avoiding Eddard, for whenever she saw him, he was surrounded by family and she felt as out of place as a Dornish woman with the Lord’s bastard daughter could feel.

“I do not want to play today, Auntie.” Edric told her and she cocked her head to him.

“Why is that, my love?” She asked her nephew, touching his face.

“I do not want to be happy. It’s not fair, Father is dead, if I am happy, who will be sad for him?” Ashara held back a sob, because she felt the same way as he did.

“Your father would never want you to be miserable, Ned. He died to save us, to protect us from the lions. If you live your life sad, his sacrifice would have been for naught, my love.” She spoke and he shook his head.

“If I do not mourn him, who will?” He asked, wiping away a tear.

“I will. Every day of my life, but you know what else? I will be happy. To have known him, to have been his sister, to have you here with me to remind me of him whenever I think he is too far from my mind.” She said and the boy finally let out a sob, letting out the pain he had been holding back.

“I don’t want to forget him, Aunt Ashara. I am starting to forget what he looked like.” The boy cried against her chest, where her heavy heart beat incredibly fast. “He is fading away.”

“If you ever forget what he looks like, look in the mirror, little one. You are so much like him that it scares me sometimes.” She chuckled and the boy gave her a shy smile.

“You think so?” He asked, the tears still running down his face.

“I know so.” She kissed his forehead.

“Go be a child, Ned. We do not know what is coming our way, dark days await us, Sweetling. Enjoy your childhood while you can.” She asked and he nodded, still shy.

“Thank you, Aunt Ashara.” He whispered and she kissed both of his cheeks.

“You do never have to thank me, my love. Now go and play with the other children, I think Bran was looking for you.” She said and the boy rose and left the room quietly.

Ashara was still to talk to the one person that she knew would understand her, leaving her chambers to find her friend.

* * *

When Olenna had planned her journey North, she had not foreseen what would await her. Yes, Rhaegar Targaryen was alive; yes, war was coming and she needed to pick a side, dragons lived and breathed. However, Lyanna Stark lived and she had born the Prince a son, an heir.

Before she could propose a betrothal, Rhaegar mentioned he already had one; it did not take a genius to guess to whom. Targaryens and their incestuous brains, no wonder madness ascended on that damn family. But someone else had taken a liking to her rose: the Stark heir seemed quite entranced with her granddaughter.

It was not what she had in mind, but it would do just fine. A future Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North? That should give them enough power, he was also the nephew of the future Queen, if their plans went right. Who knows, one day their children would wed the little heir’s one.

Joffrey Baratheon might have suited Margaery just fine, with his silly Lannister head and stag blood, if she had not heard rumors of who the father really was, and how the boy was as mad and spoilt as Aerys himself.

Olenna then wrote Garlan to speed up productions of their weapons, and training of their younger solders. Mace would whine but he would not question her orders, so she sent Garlan to Dorne, to make alliances with Doran Martell. Loras might enjoy sword swallowing, but he was still mindful of his duty, if she told him to wed Arianne Martell, he would do as he was told. From what Olenna had been told, the heir to Sunspear was very adventurous, wouldn’t they make a fine couple?

Olenna thought about what she should do regarding the enmity between the Prince and Dorne, but she decided she would first wait and see what Garlan could tell her. He would share news of Rhaegar being alive, but none of Lyanna and their child. No, this would not help them at all.

Hopefully Mace would not fall off a horse or burn Highgarden to the ground without her and his children to run their castle. The Gods only know he can.

* * *

News of ice dragons flying around Winterfell could be heard throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Most of them believed it to be fake, so nothing had been made about it. However, one particular morning, Ned had been given a letter, one with a crowned stag sigil and a few particular demands.

Ned had not spoken to Robert for almost a decade, ever since the Greyjoys rebelled. Their relationship had forever been strained since Robert awarded the Lannisters for their conquest, instead of punishing those guilty for the murders of Princess Elia and her children.

Ned would never forget that sight, their little bodies broken, wrapped in crimson cloaks. He fought the urge to throw up he had felt that very same day all those years ago. In his mind, the man he had been raised with would not tolerate such crime, but once again, he had been proven wrong. Robert had been given a crown in exchange for his soul, and Eddard Stark would have none of it.

He left for the North that very same day, with curses from the King behind his back and a heavy heart for all those souls claimed by the Gods, he also felt grief, over the friend he had lost and the family he would never see again.

_Lord Eddard,_

_It has been long since we have last spoken, my old friend. How is the North? As you Starks say, Winter is Coming and enough time has passed so I can find my son a bride, and who would be a better Queen for my Joffrey than your lovely Sansa? Our families would have been bounded by blood had that vicious man not stolen Lyanna from me, so here by Royal Decree, I, King Robert of The House Baratheon, First of My Name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm command Lady Sansa of House Stark, to wed the Crown Prince Joffrey Baratheon before her next name day._

_The Gods have been good for the both of us, granting me two sons and a daughter, as beautiful as her queen mother, with none of her ways, so once agree I declare that our families join, with the marriage of the Princess Myrcella Baratheon to your son and heir, Lord Robb of House Stark._

_My sons’s name day have been delayed due to our grieving period of Jon’s passing, so five moons from now, we will celebrate it in a Tourney, to which I would have you and yours joining me and mine in King’s Landing to attend it. I miss you, old friend._

_I have given you the perfect excuse to flee the cold, so I hope to see you soon, Lord Eddard._

_King Robert of The House Baratheon, First of My Name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm._

Ned fought back the urge to throw that damned letter in his fireplace. He knew the weight of these words, this was not Robert asking, it was Tywin Lannister’s machinations through the King’s demand. Also, whoever penned the letter was not shy in reminding Ned who had dictated it.

He would rather die than send his daughter to the lion’s den. Robert might be the King but the entire realm knew who is ruling in his stead. He sent his guards to fetch Rhaegar, Lyanna, and Arthur. He would have sent for Catelyn, but knowing his wife, he knew she would want to go ahead and do it and he was saving her the chance to say the wrong words in front of Rhaegar and Lyanna.

Catelyn had been angry when he had told her who their guests actually were, not trying to hide what she thought about the Targaryen and his sister. She had held back the words he knew she had about Lyanna, but words ran free on the Prince.

He was considering Lady Olenna’s proposition on Willas and Sansa, he had spoken to the man and he seemed like a proper lad with a good head on his shoulders. Robb all but begged him to betroth him to Lady Margaery, but now with such orders Ned was sure this was the actual point of no return. When his letter left Winterfell today, there would be no going back.

A knock was heard and he called them in. Lyanna had a sleepy face, all wrapped in her furs, same as the Prince. Arthur was much more awake and Ned thought of the other face whose eyes Ser Arthur shared: Ashara had always had a keen, political mind after living in King’s Landing for so long, and she had a bold attitude with her Dornish blood and upbringing.

But if he would not call for his wife, Ned knew calling for Ashara would be considered an offense, so he shut down his feelings and went straight to the point.

“I have received a letter from King’s Landing this morning.” He started and Lyanna suddenly woke, stiffening her body with a straight posture.

“What does it say?” Arthur asked.

“Robert wants me to wed Robb to his daughter Myrcella, and to give Sansa away to his son. He wants to make alliances, and he wants all of us down south for his heir’s name day.” He said, Rhaegar seemed to understand what it all meant, while Lyanna exploded in fury, and Ser Arthur shook his head.

“You wouldn’t dare send Sansa there, would you? They would break her.” She almost growled.

“Lyanna, control your temper. Sansa is not going to King’s Landing and neither are any of us.” He answered.

“May I see the letter, Lord Stark?” Things were still strained between Rhaegar and Ned, however there was respect and civility between them, so his good brother gave what he asked.

“You think they know of the Tyrells?” Lyanna asked and Ser Arthur nodded.

“I don’t think Lord Tywin lets anything slip by him.” He answered and Ned agreed.

“He must know and he did it to stop us from forming alliances with the south. They know there is a good chance that if we side with the Reach against them, Dorne will follow and considering our bonds with Houses Arryn and Tully, he knows the odds are not at his favor.” Ned completed Ser Arthur’s thought.

“This was not Robert. Pardon me, but your friend is not much smarter than Lyanna’s horse. I have heard of the amount of wine he consumes and the time he spends with whores instead of actually ruling. Tywin wants to make sure they secure the Throne and he is not fool enough to think Olenna Tyrell would come here without a purpose.” Rhaegar said, they all nodded.

“What will you do?” He asked Ned, that only looked down to the letter he was given back.

“It seems that I will be ignoring a King’s order.” He said quietly.

“Lady Catelyn will not be happy.” Lyanna added and he grimaced at her.

“Catelyn only wants what’s best for our children.” Ned defended his wife, even if he was quite sure she would want nothing more than to have Sansa as the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

“She does, but it wouldn’t hurt her to have a daughter as queen.” Lyanna said angrily — she and Catelyn hated one another, this had been a constant headache for him over the years, but he knew Catelyn would never go against their family’s wellbeing, he was annoyed that Lyanna would think that she would.

“Lyanna.” He scolded her and Rhaegar took Lyanna’s hand, caressing it to calm her down.

“Let’s not lose our tempers here, shall we? Speak to your wife, Lord Stark, but make sure she knows that Lyanna will be queen one day, and Robert will be nothing more than a memory, if I have anything to say about it.” Rhaegar’s soft face hardened in anger. “His boy is grown and not a good fighter from what I heard. You would not want your daughter to be the widower of a disgraced usurper.” Rhaegar’s voice was calm but enough threatening, his face hiding nothing.

Ned nodded, sitting on his chair to start a letter he intended to show Catelyn before the raven took it south. 

* * *

“Why are you so tired?” Arya asked Bran, the little boy was half asleep on his seat.

“I haven’t been sleeping well.” He murmured and she felt bad for her brother.

“You should go back to bed; I can cover for you.” She poked him and he smiled at her.

“Thank you, Arya. But I don’t want to sleep either.” He answered her in the same position, eyes half opened.

“Why not?” She was confused.

“I don’t want to see the things I have been seeing in my dreams. I hate that cave; I hate the things it shows me.” Bran blinked away the tears.

“Bran, you should see Maester Luwin. You are not well.” She touched his arm, but someone spoke before she could.

“Who is not well?” Robb and Jon sat beside them at their table, to break their fast.

“Bran can’t sleep. He’s been having bad dreams and he is not feeling well.” Arya said and Bran whined.

“I never said I wasn’t feeling well, only that I wasn’t sleeping.” He complained and Arya scoffed.

“Please, you haven’t touched your food yet and you barely ate last night as well. I’m not stupid, Bran.” She hit his arm, and Robb held her hand.

“Hey, hitting the sick is not ideal, Arya.” Robb scolded her and Bran complained.

“I’m not sick.” Bran defended himself.

“Well, you are not healthy either.” Jon said biting his apple.

“What aren’t you telling us?” Arya asked Bran through half-open lids, she could see there was something he was hiding.

“Nothing.” He said far too quickly.

“Bran.” Jon said.

“I dreamt with all your deaths, all of you.” His eyes filled with tears and as he ran away from the Great Hall, he almost knocked one their guests. Bran knew her name was Allyria.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, hiding his face from her, he did not want to be seen crying.

“No problem, are you well?” Her voice sounded worried, Brandon felt guilty.

“Not really.” He wanted to share it with someone, but he did not want his family to think he was a crying babe.

“You want to tell me what is it that is making you feel bad?” She asked him, and for some unknown reason, he wanted to.

“I don’t want you to think I’m crazy.” He murmured and she laughed, not mocking him but delighted.

“Oh, but all the best people are, at least it’s what my uncle Oberyn says.” She answered him.

“The Red Viper? You are a Martell?” Brandon’s eyes grew, his problems forgotten for a moment.

“Not a Martell, a Dayne. But he was around as I grew up, so I consider him as family.” She said with a smile.

“You are related to the Sword of the Morning? Father always says he was the greatest warrior the Seven Kingdoms have ever seen.” The little boy’s voice was now full of excitement, Allyria bit back her desire to tell him the truth about herself and Ser Arthur Dayne.

“I am; I am his niece.” She answered proudly.

“Wow.” He exclaimed and she chuckled.

“Bran.” Sansa appeared before them, apparently worried. The little boy looked down ashamed for his outburst. “I’m sorry for your disturbance, he just did not have a good night of sleep.” The little lady said.

“He didn’t disturb me, we were just talking, right…?” He hadn’t told her name, but if his hair was of any indication, he was one of her brothers, Brandon if his age seemed correct.

“Bran. My name is Brandon, but you can call me Bran.” He said with a shy smile, Allyria offered her hand to shake.

“I am Allyria Dayne, Bran. Let me know if you need to talk.” She said sweetly.

Sansa could only stare at them, her brothers did not talk much to her in a while now, they always had this… sort of a club between themselves, always sharing secrets, pulling pranks, and it wasn’t until Brandon and Rickon that she started to feel included, she always helped her mother with them. But now Bran was growing up, and growing apart.

She wasn’t what you might call jealous, but she wished she could talk to her siblings as Lady Allyria seemed to. All of them.

“Thank you, my lady.” Sansa smiled at her and the lady smiled back, walking away to break her fast, as Sansa looked down to Bran.

“Still couldn’t sleep?” She asked him.

“Not really.” He murmured.

“Let’s go, I’ll take you to Maester Luwin, he’ll help you get the sleep you need.” She smiled and he hugged her, away from prying eyes, Sansa his own savior at that moment.

“Thank you, Sansa.” He whispered and she broke their embrace.

“You’re welcome, now let us go and find Maester Luwin.” She said and they walked away, not seeing Allyria’s longing face. They were such a beautiful family; she could only hope to be accepted into it someday.

* * *

“How do you know this is the right thing to do? Why would you make such a decision without my opinion?” Catelyn lost her temper with Ned’s piece of news. She should have a say in who her eldest daughter married, especially if the betrothal they would be denying her would be to the Crown Prince.

“Catelyn, you know what’s coming. You know we are in this… cold war where are all preparing for the future, and winter is coming, Cat. I can’t throw her to the lions.” He was tired, so fucking tired.

“This man caused a war that almost ended Westeros. You lost your father and brother. We lost so much in this war, yet you still support your reckless sister and this… mad man that wants to call himself a king?” She hissed.

“They were reckless and foolish but this war was not on them, Catelyn. You know what your father and mine had planned, if you want to talk about the rebellion, let us speak how it was.”  Ned added and she sat on her bed, exhausted, with a sad look on her face.

“Whenever I look at her, all I imagine is Brandon’s face, the light leaving his eyes.” She whispered and it stirred something in Ned.

“Catelyn, Brandon was reckless as well, he was hot tempered and he did not think about his actions. I loved my brother, more than you could ever know, but Brandon was no saint. Lyanna did not kill Bran, his wolf’s blood did.” He answered frustrated, they had spoken about this a thousand times.

“I’m sorry I am all you got, but I cannot change the past and I am not giving Sansa to the Lannisters so they could do to her what they did to Elia, should we ever engage in war.” Ned’s voice was final, Catelyn avoided speaking of Brandon, it hurt too much, but whenever she was around, it was hard to stay silent about it.

“So will you betroth her to House Tyrell? Or Robb, for that matter?” She asked him.

“We need alliances, and no one has provisions such as the Tyrells.” He said, seeing the smile form on her face.

“She will be a great lady, I think she was born for it.” Catelyn said, but Ned barely heard her, he was far too upset.

He got up from his seat and started to walk away from their chambers.

“Won’t you come to bed?” She murmured.

“I’ll be sleeping next door.” He said and she got up fast, grabbing his arm.

“Stay with me, Ned.” Her eyes watering. “Please, my lord.”

“Not tonight, excuse me, Catelyn.” He said and left, leaving her to her cries and lonely bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo?  
> What did you guys think? Are you enjoying it?  
> Did you guys like the jonerys bit? Also, is there anything you would like to see here? Any character in particular? Not that I will definitely write, but hey, who knows? :)  
> Thanks for being so lovely and so supportive, means more than you know!  
> In times of haters, love is essential and it makes you write more and more and more, so spread the love, guys! Not just here, but in any fic you guys read!  
> Thanks for reading and commenting, as I've said thousand times before, kudos and comments feed the muse! LOL


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned makes a big decision, Jaime has to handle his feelings towards the past and the future while Jon and Daenerys enjoy their bliss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, loves!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, we're building towards the war and I can't wait to hear what you guys think of it. I always get the sweetest comments and don't think I don't appreciate it, I read all of your comments and I love them very much. Some haters might try to bring us down, and sometimes even manage to, but your loving messages erase their hate. 
> 
> Also a big thanks to my friends, always supporting and amazing! What would I do without you guys being amazing and helping me through everything? Shawn, Scarlet, Val, Julie, Sharon, Alice, AC and all of you amazing people who have my back! :D 
> 
> Also a special shoutout to my beta, the always lovely and writer of some amaaazing fics, TheScarletGarden. Thank you, love! <3
> 
> I can't wait to hear your thoughts on the chapter, let me know down below! :)

Her daughter could have been queen, her son wed to the King’s sister. But no, Lyanna Stark stood in her way, as she always had. First, she caused her Brandon’s death. Then, she brought her bastard to grow up with her children, with her trueborn sons and daughters.

No one knew about her secret, so all imagined her to be the Lord’s mistress, only humiliating Catelyn further more. Why else would a handmaiden be allowed a whole tower to herself? Ned’s constant care for her, it had always angered Catelyn.

Brandon was too wild, too strong, he would not have let Lyanna dominate their lives as she had. Ned was too calm, too sweet to deny his spoiled little sister of anything.

No, now she was dragging her and her entire family into war, just so she could wear a crown. Sansa would not be a queen, Lyanna would. Because Lyanna got what Lyanna wanted.

Catelyn had been happy with the Tyrells' presence, and it wasn’t hard to see her son’s interest in their little rose. Sansa seemed to spend a good amount of her time talking about Willas Tyrell with Jeyne, or speaking to the man himself. However, Robb could easily charm himself with Myrcella Baratheon, and Sansa could speak even more of Prince Joffrey to Jeyne.

She had told her children about the King’s proposal that afternoon, it had almost seemed odd. Both stood silent, but Robb seemed joyous. Sansa, her perfect little lady, hardly answered at all. She would have thought they would react differently. Were they happy with their only option?

Catelyn was tired, her head hurt and she felt void of energy. First Rhaegar Targaryen and his sister, then Ned’s little whore and their bastard daughter, now this? She missed her normal life, even with all the whispers, Ned would come to her every night, to sleep beside her after their love making.

He had not been in their bed for weeks now. Sleeping in a distant room, away from all prying eyes. Also, away from her. She felt the tears coming to her, she missed him. She missed the security of his arms, but it seemed like every one of her actions only distanced them more.

Why couldn’t he see that all she did was for the benefit of their family?  Family, Duty, Honor. She loved them, she wanted them to be happy, nothing else. She wouldn’t mind Lyanna so much if she did not intrude into her life as much as she did.

Dragons lived and breathed again. Would that be enough to guarantee their victory? They weren’t big enough to burn Tywin Lannister’s might, what did they expect to do with that? Rhaegar Targaryen was known to be dead throughout the realm, who would rally their armies for a Prince that on everyone's eyes broke his vows, stole and raped a woman and then died? It might not be what truly happened, but it was all the Seven Kingdoms believed. Would they rally their men for a ghost? A memory?

Catelyn went to find Ned, determined to have him back in her bed. She was wearing one of her dresses that she knew he loved, maybe they could reconcile and she could still have another child, she was still young, and she would love nothing more than giving Ned another boy.

As she walked through the halls, she heard giggling and laughter, she noticed light coming from the library as two people talked inside.

“You have to see them, Ashara. They are so in love and they think they are hiding it so well, it is adorable,” Lyanna giggled.

“Well, you and Rhaegar weren’t much better at hiding it. The first time I saw Rhaegar smiling that wide it scared me half to dead, our Crown Prince had always been gentle and polite but that smile? The Seven themselves couldn’t provoke it off him.” Ashara smiled, her eyes far away. “Elia told me of you two, she was so happy for Rhaegar, she wished she had had a chance in love as well, but she lost it. She never loved Rhaegar, he was never more than a dear friend, but she always hoped she would have a love of her own.” Ashara’s voice grew quiet, “But the gods had no mercy in store for her.”

“The Gods aren’t to blame for what happened to her, Ash,” Lyanna said. _Well, we can agree on that_ , Catelyn thought. “I did, Rhaegar did,” Lyanna said quietly. “I keep telling Rhaegar not to blame himself, but it’s hard to follow my own advice when I think of Elia and her children.”

“Stop doing that, you know the Rebellion would have come either way. If anyone is to blame, it was that old lion and his leeches, Aerys and his madness,” the Dayne whore said.

“Rhaegar didn’t want to fight this war, you know? The one we have coming our way now,” Lyanna said, causing Catelyn to roll her eyes.

“I know; it was never in his nature to fight,” Ashara answered, Catelyn wouldn't be surprised if she had been involved with Rhaegar as well.

“But he will, for our family and for his as well, the live ones and the dead. He told me he will bring Fire and Blood over Lord Tywin and his Mountain,” Lyanna said.

“I hope he has no mercy for them,” Ashara answered with intensity.

“He won’t,” Lyanna said.

“It is so good to have you here.” Catelyn heavily disagreed, she almost felt like revealing herself and speaking her mind.

“I love seeing you, but I don’t know if I should be here,” Ashara answered.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“We are not wanted here. But I had nowhere to go, I would rather face the entire North than to see my daughter harmed,” Ashara said. For a moment, Catelyn understood Ashara, but then she remembered the sight of her husband on top of her that day.

“Your daughter is my blood; she is Ned’s blood. You are welcomed here, you are wanted. We would not have you going anywhere else. You did what a mother has to do, you fought for your child, for your family, if there are people bothered by you being here, they might as well change places themselves.” Catelyn seethed.

“She is his wife,” Ashara almost whispered, Catelyn hardly heard her.

“And you, my friend,” Lyanna answered.

Lyanna Stark hated her, if only Ned could see his sister for who she truly was… 

* * *

Jaime woke up in tears, it didn't happen very often. Jaime could not remember the last time he had cried! But to see them? His mother, Queen Rhaella… It hit him hard, and it showed.

He wasn't eating well, barely sleeping at all. So when he had to guard the King, and hear the whoremonger fuck those women and drink himself to sleep, he was certainly on the edge.

He changed places with Meryn Trant, it was hard to believe the Kingsguard had fallen so low as to have a man like him.

Jaime remembered the days of Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, and Ser Gerold Hightower, the White Bull, even Ser Barristan himself, all coming down to Ser Boros Blunt and fucking Meryn Trant.

He went to the White Sword Tower, where he found Ser Barristan in tears. It gave him pause, _so it is true_ , he thought.

Rhaegar lived.

“Ser Barristan?” He knew the man despised him, but that revelation was bigger than any ill feeling between them.

“I assume you already know,” he spoke a moment after, his face now solemn, his eyes still marred with tears.

“Is it true then? I heard rumors, never enough to-” Jaime was interrupted by the unexpected words.

“What are you going to do about this?” Ser Barristan asked him, but Jaime had no answers for him.

“I... What do you expect me to do?” he asked him, annoyed.

“To defend your Prince, to fight for your King.” Barristan had a fire in his eyes so bright that Jaime felt a similar flame rise within him as well. “Your rightful King, not a man that let others run his kingdom, while he whores and drinks himself to death.” The old man’s face was turning red with emotion. “I stood here to guard him, he was no Mad King, but Robert never came close to what the definition of a good king should be. You murdered Aerys, Jaime. You got yourself a reputation for that. Will you keep that? Or will you take the chance the Seven are giving you?” he almost spat on him.

“You’re asking me to betray my family, Ser.” Jaime was outraged, or at least he thought he should be.

“The Kingsguard is your family, you made an oath, not to Robert, to Aerys, which Rhaegar inherited.” Ser Barristan sounded disappointed, but not exactly surprised.

“I swore an oath to Robert as well,” Jaime shouted, looking for reasons to stay.

“I’ve left my Baratheon armor in my chambers, I leave in the morning, Ser Jaime. I expect to see you there,” Barristan said, moving to leave their common area, Jaime did not know what to do then. Should he report this back to his father? Should he… No.

“I beg your pardon, Ser, but you will be disappointed,” Jaime insisted, like a stubborn child.

“You always felt guilty about Elia and her children. Don’t you think she would have wanted you to keep Rhaegar safe?” Ser Barristan asked.

“Elia wants nothing, she is dead,” Jaime said in return, with a defiant look but with a sad heart.

“All of us died a little that day, son,” Barristan concluded, leaving Jaime to more of his nightmares, and to his disturbing inner doubts. 

* * *

Catelyn tried to get him to go to her chambers once again but he did not want her presence, nor anyone else’s. It was cold, but not so cold that he could not spend the night in the Godswood.

He needed calmness and serenity to think of what awaited them. He needed to think of his next steps, what to say to his family, what to say to his men.

Life had taken turns he would have never expected. Ned thought back to the days of Harrenhal, to the first night he danced with Ashara, marveled by her laughing purple eyes. She had the most beautiful smile, and her eyes spoke volumes.

He had been captured by her tiny waist, her sinful form, but it had been her wits and humor that charmed him the most. They spoke for hours that night, and all the nights after that, until he succumbed to their desires and they joined as one.

When he heard of her losing their child, he thought back to the life they would never have; of the wife he had been forced to take, of all that was Brandon’s suddenly becoming his. She looked so pale and weak when they returned from the Tower of Joy, she had provided them all she needed, that night all they did was sharing painful words, a look of betrayal in her beautiful eyes.

When he heard of her death, he hated himself even further. He always thought he was to blame, he gave her that child and the Gods found it right just to take her away. But now she was here, she was here and amidst all of the confusion that clouded his mind, she burned bright like the certainty he was never allowed to have.

They faced war, Tywin Lannister had taken over Robert for years now, Ned knew his beloved friend was barely there at all, and by commanding him to offer them his children he felt as though he had no other choice but to face them.

The rumors about Joffrey were running throughout the kingdoms. Robb had taken a like to Lady Margaery, and Sansa seemed to fit perfectly in the idea of the Lady of Highgarden, with her love for knights and summer.

Catelyn imagined his refusal as a slight to their family, but in truth, Ned was trying to make sure that they lived, that they were happy.

 _Catelyn. Her and Lyanna never got along, from the moment she arrived with Jon in her arms, I knew Catelyn would never forgive me._ Once again, betrayal in her eyes, but this time, he had a purpose, he had a reason for this, one more sacred than his honor. He had to protect Jon and Lyanna.

He had come to love Catelyn, she was beautiful, kind and she loved their children greatly. She loved all of his children, all but one. She had given him council and shelter, but until the end she asked him to send Lyanna and Jon away. She asked about Ashara and insulted _Ayla_ , Ned had never been so angry at her before.

So he decided to tell her the truth, and there was where it hit him. It didn’t matter, she didn’t want them here at all, and although she had the right to it, it put his heart to a stop. They would not go anywhere, and ever since, he saw resentment in her eyes whenever any of them were close. Now more than ever.

He spent his night in the Godswood, asking the Gods for protection and guidance. It was cold, Ned felt it numb his limbs, but he did not mind. He just wanted answers, he needed strength for the wars to come. 

* * *

“You are so beautiful,” Rhaegar whispered against her neck, his lips touching her skin causing shivers to run through her body, right to her center.

“I am also sleepy,” she said with a chuckle, he smiled against her skin.

He continued to kiss her, until he turned her on her back, facing him. Her eyes were almost closed, but a playful smile showed on her lips.

Rhaegar just stared at her, her face was lean and strong, her cheeks high, her lips full, her neck was soft and gracious, and the space between her full breasts was his favorite resting place. Her nipples hardened at his touch.

He played with her body, rejoicing at her moans, in how he still knew every inch of her. Her waist was just as small as it used to be, but her hips were wider, giving her the shape of a goddess. Her white, warm skin was slightly marked by the time, and yet, she was even more beautiful than what he remembered.

Time had been kind to her, even if life had not.

“Are you staring at me?” she asked, amused.

“What if I am?” he defied her, enjoying their banter.

“Then I will make sure you enjoy what you see,” she said sensuously, taking her hand to her stomach, dragging it to her center, where she played with herself. Rhaegar instantly felt his cock twitch. Her eyes were closed, but her entire self was open to him, enjoying his responsive touch.

“We need to get out of bed soon,” he said, not taking his eyes off her fingers.

“Then we have to do it fast, don’t we, my King?” she moaned, breaking his resolve.

Rhaegar replaced her fingers with his and he went straight to her mouth, kissing her roughly, with a maddening desire. She kissed him back just as eagerly, it had been moons since he had returned to her, but he still could not get enough of her. Somehow he thought he never would.

“Rhaegar,” she moaned, and he smiled.

“What is it, my Queen?” he asked, amused, pushing his fingers inside her as his thumb caressed her nub.

“Oh… You…” she moaned, her eyes suddenly wide open at the feeling of him inside her,her nails scratching his back, he was the one to moan then.

“What is it that you want?” he asked her, and she took him in her hands, their body aligned, yet barely touching but through their fingers. He leaned himself on his forearms, until Lyanna touched his tip and he almost fell on her.

“You,” she said with a wicked smile, rolling him onto his back.

“You have me,” he said closing his eyes to her touch, she caressed his chest to his stomach, kissing his scars, those mysterious scars no one knew of but her, reaching for his member again, while her hands touched his sides, then grabbed his thighs.

He was strong, a body shaped for sin, she thought. She always loved how his body responded to her, so when she took him in her hand and spread his pre-cum on her lips, his grunts aroused her even further. She finally came down on him, enjoying every bit of his intrusion inside her, her walls wet and ready for him.

“You feel so good, Lya,” his trembling voice said and she kissed him softly, still slowly accepting him. After a while, she decided to change their pace, rolling her hips against his a little faster, riding him almost in slow-motion.

They knew war approached and remembering what the last war had brought upon them, it was easily to get lost in each other, to live every moment deeply and to treasure one another in every way that they knew, so they did, making passionate love until both passed out in tiredness. They would be late this morning, but neither cared. 

* * *

“I want you to meet my family.” Daenerys was sitting beside him on her bed, both enjoying each other’s company, as the dragons fought for a piece of meat in front of them. She seeked his eyes as she heard him, intrigue written over her face.

“I have met them,” she said, a hand at her waist.

“Not properly.” He shook his head.

“Will you say I am your aunt or your lady?” Daenerys asked, amused.

“We can leave the family matter for another moment, maybe.” A frown was showing on his face.

“You Starks and your prudishness,” she scoffed.

“I am not just a Stark,” he added, making her smile.

“I know.” She enjoyed seeing him slowly come to terms with his Targaryen blood. “You seem to be handling it well.”

“Ayla… Lyanna is my mother. Knowing this gave me her, gave me you…” He pecked her lips, his hand caressing her cheek.

“And Rhae. I know you already had a father, but he loves you very much,” Daenerys added and he nodded. That would take a while to sink in, but he did not deny Rhaegar. That alone was a bonus to Dany.

“Aye, him as well.” Jon gave her a crooked smile that filled her with joy.

“I am so glad you came,” he said, and she cocked her head to him.

“I am glad as well. We never really had a home,” she said. “We kept moving from one city to the next, running away from Robert’s assassins, going wherever Rhae’s next campaign took him.” She had a distant look. “It was not always bad, though. We visited so many places, and met so many people,” Daenerys said.

“I never went anywhere outside the North. Father would not let me.” He faltered at ‘father’, she noticed, but she chose to ignore it.

“We can travel the world one day, just you and me,” she said and he smiled, bringing her into his lap, kissing her sweetly.

“I wanted to go to the Night’s Watch, you know? I was determined to go to Castle Black the next time Uncle Benjen would come to visit us,” he murmured and she looked deep into his Stark grey eyes.

“Somehow I think Lyanna would not have let you,” she chuckled and he did too. “Can I ask you why?”

“What can a bastard have? I just wanted to make something of myself.” He avoided her eyes, playing with her fingers.

“I grew up as my father’s mistake, I wanted to give him a reason to be proud of me, instead of ashamed,” he said, ignoring the lump in his throat while speaking of such matters.

“You could never be anyone’s shame, Jon. Bastard or not, your heart is so good.” He looked up to her and her smile was so full of love he couldn’t help his own to show.

“I am not that good.” He knew he would never be good enough to deserve her, of all he was being given, but he would not let it go for the world.

“Why is that?” He could see that hearing his self-deprecation made her sad, so he took her thoughts elsewhere.

“Because I have rather nasty dreams with a maid,” he said teasingly and she joined his game.

“Yeah? What is it that you do to her?” she whispered to his ear, teasing his earlobe, then nipping down his neck.

“Oh, I should not say it. It is not proper.” He moaned to the touch of her hot probing tongue.

“Hm?” She suckled on his Adam’s apple, enjoying him squirming beneath her.

“You are killing me, Dany,” he said and she stopped her teasing to chuckle loudly.

“Thank you for coming for me,” he added, suddenly quiet, serious.

“Thank you for coming for me as well, even if only in our dreams,” she said, holding herself against his chest, feeling the one thing neither one dared say but both felt deeply. 

* * *

Jaime went to find Cersei that night, he needed the comfort he could only find in her, and after spending themselves on each other, he mentioned the one thing he feared bringing up to her.

“Has father spoken to you about news of the North?” he asked and she didn’t bother to look at him, enjoying her apple tarts.

“Which news of the North could ever concern me, Jaime?” she asked, amused, and he realized she knew nothing.

“Rhaegar,” he said and she looked up at him, skeptical.

“Rhaegar is dead, he died on the Trident, brother. Is your memory failing you?” she japed but he had no smiles for her.

“Rhaegar is alive, he was seen at Winterfell, him and his three fire breathing dragons brought to life by his sister, Daenerys,” he said and she dropped a tart in shock.

“Rhaegar… in the North… alive?” She had tears welling up on her eyes. “You think… you think he is really alive?”

“Ser Barristan likes to think he is.” He did not want to rattle the man, for some reason Jaime would feel even more dishonored if he did so.

“You think he… Rhaegar would have never treated me as Robert does.” She scoffed with the memory, “He would have treated me like a real queen, he would have loved me and cherished me.”

“You forget Lyanna Stark,” Jaime said to hurt her, barely believing her reaction.

“You think he would have taken a second glance at her if he ever had me? Jaime, don’t be ridiculous.” He felt infuriated at her mockery.

“He fell in love with her,” he said and Cersei laughed.

“He fell in love with what she had between her legs, that she so easily opened for him at the Tourney. I had the same, brother, and you know how sweet it is,” she said maliciously and he was incredulous.

“He lost a kingdom for her,” Jaime remembered her.

“Imagine what he would not have given for me,” she smiled at him.

“You forget you cannot change the past.”

“But who knows of the future. Father had Elia murdered so we could thrive, I am sure Robert is easily disposable if Rhaegar ever accepts to marry me. I could still give him children, he would never harm the ones I already have, he is no Robert,” she said and it was his turn to laugh.

“You really think he would ever marry the daughter of the man that had his wife and children murdered?” he asked, horrified by her delusional thoughts.

“How much could they mean to him? He left them for her, did he not?”

“No, he wanted them to go to Dragonstone but when the Mad King didn’t let him, it was my duty to take care of them. He asked me to look out for them before he left.” The memory was still burning in the back of his mind.

“What a marvelous job you did.” She spat maliciously but she clearly regretted the moment she said it.

“Jaime, I am sorry. You know I did not mean to-” she tried arguing with him, but he was already half dressed, boots in hands and an anger on his eyes, so similar to hers, that was uncharacteristic of him.

“Goodnight, Cersei,” he said as he left her chambers, determined. 

* * *

That morning at breakfast, Rhaegar received a raven with nothing but the words “ _War is coming, My King.”_

He and Lyanna dressed themselves and went to find Ned, Arthur already following them to the Lord’s solar.

“Lord Stark,” Rhaegar greeted him after being let inside.

“My Prince.” Ned looked tired, but the man was nothing if not solemn and polite.

“Take a look at this, my lord. I just received it, we cannot delay this anymore.” Rhaegar gave him the piece of parchment.

“Mayhap we should tell our family the truth?” Lyanna asked her brother, she worried about him, he seemed awful, and she feared that this could only harm him more. But if there was one thing Lyanna Stark had learned was that ignorance was not bliss.

“What truth?” Ned asked, his voice wary.

“They deserve to know as well,” Arthur spoke for the first time.

“They do, Ned,” Lyanna nodded.

“We’ll tell them tonight,” Ned sighed after some time, ignoring the looks he was receiving.

“Will you tell them about Ashara and Allyria as well?” Arthur asked.

“I need to speak to Ashara first,” Ned answered. He was fearing that moment, he could see his children playing together and he feared what such knowledge could do.

“Ser Arthur, would you please bring everyone into the Great Hall, our family and our entire household after supper? It is time for the realm to learn a few things.”

“Ned, are you ready for this? You know if we do that, everyone will know the truth,” Lyanna worriedly asked.

“It is past time they know, don’t you think?” he answered and she approached him with open arms, surprising him with a warm embrace. His misery and tiredness were forgotten for a while, he had something to fight for, that would always come first.

“It is,” she whispered.

“Bring everyone into the Great Hall, they all need to learn the truth,” he repeated as she broke their embrace and returned to her husband’s side. He could see them holding hands.

“First, Ser Arthur, may you ask Ashara and Allyria to come to me?” Ned asked and Ser Arthur nodded and left to fetch them.

Ned spoke to Rhaegar and Lyanna of matters of alliances, North and South. When Ashara and Allyria arrived, he felt nervousness and worry, but Lyanna kissed his cheek and he stood still as both Dayne ladies entered his solar. 

* * *

Ashara noticed Ned’s state the moment she entered his solar, he had bags under his eyes and it seemed as if he had not had a moment of sleep for days now.

“You called for us?” Allyria asked him, still shy but with a loving smile on her face, probably perceiving the same she had.

“I wanted to speak to the both of you about something,” he said nervously and Ashara wondered what this was all about.

“You may speak,” she said warily.

“I want to tell my family the truth.” He was straight to the point, and surprisingly it was Allyria to be the most surprised.

“Why?” she whined.

“Do you not want them to know the truth?” he asked, confused.

“They like me, they seem to actually like me. Even Sansa, she let me teach her how to braid her hair as I do mine and Rickon drew something I will never guess what it is for me.” She said desperate, Ashara held her soft hand. “They will hate me if they know the truth.” Ned reached for her hand and Allyria let him, that surprised Ashara.

“They could never hate you, you are all Arya and Bran speak of and Sansa asked me for purple fabrics so she could sew you a dress. They love you.” Ned said, and Ashara could not see Allyria’s face, for her eyes were foggy with tears.

“Why now?” she asked, Ashara was still quietly digesting everything.

“War is coming, and we must be prepared, together now more than ever.” he said and he finally looked at her, making her tears to fall, a wave of emotions filling and overwhelming her completely. Her sobs were muffed by her hand but her sadness was apparent.

“Ashara, what is it?”

“Mother?” Allyria approached to embrace her. “Mama,” she called as she did when she was younger.

“I do not have to tell them if you do not want me to,” Ned added and she looked up, her daughter still tied to her.

“I am sorry, I just… I shouldn’t…” She did not felt like sharing her feelings, he was not hers for her to seek comfort.

“Please, tell me what it is.” His voice was polite yet warm.

“My brother was the first of many victims of this war, I cannot bare to lose anyone else.” He was caught by surprise; she knew who he meant. Allyria would be at home, safe.

He would not.

“We can win this war, we have dragons.” He tried to be optimistic but she wondered if he believed his own words.

“Yes, we do.” She stopped crying, drying her face with her sleeve.

“Uncle Arthur is the best swordsman in all the known world, he told me Prince Rhaegar does not come far behind, and I am sure Lord Stark is formidable as well.” Allyria still did not call him Father.

“Yes,” Ashara added, ashamed of her display.

“You will be safe here, you will not have to go anywhere,” he reassured her and she nodded.

“Thank you, Ned,” she said, making him smile.

“Do I have your permission to tell the others the truth?” he asked to the both of them and they both allowed him to do it, although unsure of what the outcome of it all would be. 

* * *

“Why are we here?” Arya asked, bored.

“Father wanted to speak to us,” Robb answered.

“Every one of us? The entire household is here.” Arya looked around her, noticing the amount of people gathered there.

“Shhh, Arya,” Sansa said.

“I am not doing anything.” Arya frowned at her sister.

“Father wants to talk, please,” Sansa said as if Arya was singing songs to shut their father.

“Whatever.” Arya rolled her eyes.

“Where is Jon?” Bran asked.

“With his new girlfriend,” Theon said mockingly.

“Wait, what?” Arya was surprised, she did not know Jon had a girlfriend. How could she not know?

“Have you not noticed how much time he spends with that girl?” Theon asked and all the Stark siblings seemed to suddenly realize Jon had been more absent than normal.

“The white haired one,” Robb realized.

“I didn’t know she was his girlfriend,” Arya complained, why hadn’t Jon told her?

“That’s because you know nothing,” Greyjoy said with a devious look.

“Shut up, Theon,” Robb groaned.

“How about your girlfriend?” Theon asked, amused.

“What?” Robb exclaimed.

“What?” Arya was surprised again. What was up with her brothers keeping secrets from her?

“Shut up, Theon.” Robb punched his arm, enough to hurt but not enough to bruise.

“The Tyrells are here as well, so is Lady Allyria and her mother. She looks nothing like her mother, I wonder how Lord Dayne looks like,” Sansa commented.

“She is not Lord Dayne’s daughter, she’s his niece,” Arya said, she had grown close to Allyria and she remembered the girl mentioned it to her.

“Oh.” Sansa seemed surprised.

“She is nice, we played swords and rode horses. She rides so fast,” Arya said with amazement, they had grown to become friends and that was something rare to her, as usually no girls around her ever seemed interested in the same things as her.

“What are they doing here?” Sansa pointed to the silver-haired girl and her companion, the Essosi Magíster.

“Well, maybe we are about to find out,” Robb said and they all sat on their chairs to hear their father speak. 

* * *

With the entire household gathered, Ned coughed to draw their attention, and he started explaining the secret he kept for almost half of his life.

“You were all called here because there are urgent matters I must speak of.”

“What is it, Lord Stark?” Jory Cassel asked.

“War is coming,” he answered solemnly, not expecting the uproar that echoed throughout the Hall. Both his family and his people were reacting to it in surprising ways, some worried, some actually seemingly excited. 

“Silence!” he shouted.

“Years ago, we thought Prince Rhaegar Targaryen had taken my sister Lyanna into captivity. Brandon had the wolf’s temperament and he demanded the prince’s head to his mad father. The rest is history, as we all know,” he said, noticing he had everyone’s attention, even little Rickon who probably understood close to nothing of what was being said.

“But what we did not know was that she had never been kidnapped, Lyanna went willingly, and left a note behind.” Everyone’s eyes widened in shock. “A note that someone interested in war hid and mayhap even burned. Prince Rhaegar loved Lyanna and thousands died for it, there is no denying, however, he never harmed her.” He could see every reaction: indignation, surprise, anger, happiness. But they were those of his family that he noticed the most, all surprised and intrigued.

“So the Rebellion was based on a lie, Father?” It was little Bran that asked.

“Yes, son. We all got played by someone without a name, we might never know who hid Lyanna’s note, we can never go back and save Brandon or my father, we all lost loved ones during the Rebellion, and we can never get them back,” Ned said, feeling a deep sadness to think of those who were gone.

“Why are you speaking of this only now, Father?” Robb asked.

“Because there is more, when I found Lyanna, she was dying in childbed. She had just given birth to a child. A boy,” he said and little by little, the faces around him showed that they were making the connections between his tales and their present, all of them looking at Jon after doing so.

Jon was uncomfortable, to say the very least.

“Lady Ashara knew where we were, so she sent a Maester, equipped with the material he would need to save my sister,” he continued.

“Save her? But Lady Lyanna is dead, my lord!” Ser Rodrik exclaimed.

Ned went silent as curious eyes wondering what else would he say.

“Lyanna is alive.” The hall fell in mayhem.

“Silence, I am not finished!” he shouted. It was only right that they all reacted to it, but he had a story to tell and he was far from done.

“Where is Lady Lyanna, Lord Stark? Is she well? Why did she hide?” Ser Rodrik asked, Ned remembered how fond of Lyanna their master-in-arms was.

“Lyanna is here, and she has lived amongst us all these years, you may know her as Ayla.” The moment he said it, the woman became someone else in front of their eyes. Still beautiful, long faced, grey deep eyes, red cheeks and a shy front. Ned could see Jon holding her hand. Rhaegar kept his distance, he would be the final reveal.

“Lady Lyanna.” Ser Rodrik’s stunned face was entirely happy.

“Before we finish, there is more.” Ned wanted this to be over.

A maid lifted her hand to ask her turn to speak and he granted her. “Why are you sharing your secrets with us, m’lord? We are low servants.” He was surprised by her question.

“You are my people, and I wanted to make sure you all heard the truth from me. You deserve that.” Admiration shone at the woman’s eyes and in so many others.

“What more could there be, Lord Stark?” their kennel master asked respectfully.

“Prince Rhaegar lives, and he is also staying with us, and his sister, Princess Daenerys,” Ned said. After so many revelations, it still shocked them all. 

“The silver haired lady! Jon’s girlfriend!” Arya exclaimed and everyone stared at Jon and Daenerys, who flushed deeply.

“But they are… Oh!” Arya flushed, realizing she had outed her brother. _Not cousin_ , _he would always be her brother._

“Tywin Lannister has attacked Dorne, he runs the realm instead of Robert and he plans on rising our taxes, using our soldiers, harvest and taking all we hold dear.” He got to the most important part.

“Why would he do that? He is Hand of the King, the richest man in Westeros. He has it all,” Jory observed, almost dizzy with all of the information they got.

“Not all, it seems.” Ned touched his own face, trying to shake away his tiredness.

“Where is Prince Rhaegar? Are we to rally behind him?” Bran asked, half knowing the answer.

“Yes,” Ned said without hesitation, surprising even himself.

Rhaegar took off his bracelet and the sight of the Silver Prince was seen by all.

“I wanted nothing of this, I lost everything at the Rebellion, only had my mother and my sister with me, exiled in Essos. But Tywin wanted my misery and so he murdered my mother, the sweetest, most kind woman known to this day,” Rhaegar spoke for the first time, astonishing those watching it all. “I will not ask you to fight for me, but I am fighting and I would be honored to do it beside you, to make sure none of your mothers and sisters, daughters and sons have to perish as mine did, under pain, agony and pure torture.” His voice was rough with grief.

“What about Princess Elia? You just ran away with Lady Lyanna,” someone spoke from the crowd.

“Me and Princess Lyanna wed all those years ago. Targaryens have had two wives before, Elia and I were good friends and she wanted me to be happy, she gave us her blessing,” he told them as he had told Ned before.

“It is hard to believe, my Prince. I would never let my husband marry another,” Catelyn spoke for the first time, her eyes set on Ashara.

“Because you love him as a wife loves a husband, me and Elia were friends, we only ever did our duty. I loved her as a brother loves a sister, I wanted her to be happy and she wanted the same for me,” Rhaegar answered.

“Why should we believe you?” she asked again, Ned had spoken to her before and he knew she had good intentions but they shouldn’t be fighting amongst themselves, they needed unity now more than ever.

“Because I have the letters to prove it,” he answered solemnly, even Ned was astounded, he knew nothing of such letters.

“Is there anything else, Lord Stark?” a maid asked him politely, her voice low and shy.

“Only to my family, if you will allow me the room.” He nodded to her and most of their household left, whispers and murmurs of what he had just shared could be heard, he knew now it was only a matter of time before such murmurs traveled throughout all of Westeros. 

* * *

“Are you really a Targaryen?” Arya asked Jon as she reached him, her little face afraid of what he might say.

“Would you still love me if I was?” he asked and she rolled her eyes.

“Nothing could make me stop loving you, stupid. You will always be my brother.” She threw herself at him and he held her against his chest, filled with happiness.

“You will always be our brother, Jon,” Robb held him as well, so did Bran and little Rickon just tagged along.

Sansa was frozen, she would not get up from her seat, however her eyes were filled with tears. Before Ned could continue, she left the Great Hall in tears. 

* * *

“Ser Jaime.” Ser Barristan saw the man wore none of his Baratheon Kingsguard armor.

“We should leave before the sun is up, Ser,” Jaime said, ignoring his guilt and the old knight’s amusement.

“Should we go, then?” he asked Jaime, who only nodded.

Ser Barristan never said a word, only cloaked himself as Jaime did the same, both knights leaving the Red Keep behind promising themselves to only return under a different king, the rightful one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooo?  
> Why did you guys think Sansa ran?  
> Did you guys enjoy Jaime? For the people asking me if we'll get Tyrion, YES, we will. Patience, Padawans.  
> Jaime's absence will bring on some surprising reactions...  
> Thanks for sticking with me throughout these 13 chapters, it means a lot.  
> Your comments inspire and motivate me sooo much to write.  
> Let me know your thoughts!  
> Kudos and comments feed the muse, y'all. LOL (I'm a child and I'll never stop writing it hahaha)


	14. Information

Hi guys, sorry to "update" without update, I just have been getting a lot of messages asking me if I abandoned the fic and I just want you guys to know that  **I HAVE NOT.**

**I LOVE WRITING THIS STORY, it gives me all the feels to write it, read your comments and receive your kudos. However, I have been dealing with a lot of pain and my health hasn't allowed me to write/dictate much. Also, considering that S08 IS STARTING TOMORROW and it will overwhelm me and drive me crazy...however, I will come back with updates as soon as I can, and when the show ends? I won't be going anywhere.**

**Thanks for all the support!!! Check out all of my stories and my betas' stories meanwhile, a lot of Jonerys, RhaegarxLyanna, Robbaery, Nedshara, Gendrya and WillasxSansa for you guys! I LOVE YOU ALL!**

**Sunday is s8 day, so in the words of the Kingsguard we love...**

  

                                                           

**Author's Note:**

> So? Do I go on?  
> Send me your thoughts.  
> Not to give spoilers but three of my favorite otps can be found in time. :D


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